Watercolor
by Miroir du Symphonie
Summary: Sora spent the last year at home being treated for chronic depression. Falling in love with Roxas, he's going back to school, risking relapse...and their secret. Will their romance hold, or will sickness and society shatter it? Twincest, Multipairing
1. Prologue: Like Breathing

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG**

**Chapter Warnings: None**

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: This is the first KH fic that I've ever attempted, along with my first time writing yaoi. I've been reading KH forever, and have decided to take a shot at writing one. So, reviews are more than welcome, I'm anxious to see how I did. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Edit: This chapter has been revised and replaced to fix errors.**

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

The glass fogged up around his hand as he placed it on the windowpane. Outside was already dark despite the current afternoon time, and dimmed blue eyes stared back at him—a shadow of his reflection. Through it, little arrows of ice appeared to be falling, falling to the earth and seeking death...

"Mr. Akiyama?"

Sora turned away from the window to find his doctor staring at him, syringe in hand. "Are you ready for your treatment?"

Sora sighed. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, come now, why the long face? After all, this is your last one!" the doctor chatted animatedly as he rolled up Sora's sleeve and began to tap his arm, looking for a vein. Sora looked away, squeezing his eyes shut as the doctor pushed down the plunger, sending the amber-colored coolness into his arm. He felt the familiar dizziness wash over him and he tried his best to focus on the familiar sight of blue crystal eyes to keep him from passing out.

And then, it was over.

"All done!" The doctor chirped as Sora yanked his sleeve back down and grabbed his jacket, scarf, and gloves—all but running out the room. _No more visits, no more doctors, no more damn injections..._

Making the trip through the hospital, the blaring paleness of the walls and sterile scent of antiseptics made his eyes hurt and his head ache. Doctors and nurses passed him, all dressed in the same poisonous white, none paying the least bit of attention to the small teen walking among them. Pushing open the complex doors with a sigh of relief, he fumbled his way down the steps...and immediately regretted it. The snow blanketing the ground was blinding and he felt the pounding in his head increase as he squinted, trying to locate something.

Blue eyes, blonde hair, a soft tugging on his sleeve and then Sora stumbled into twin arms—kisses were being pressed to his forehead, to his eyes and neck and nose and then to his lips, a surge of welcome passion that conspired with the medicine to make him weak.

"Hey, handsome," a voice purred in his hypersensitive ear, nibbling on his earlobe in _that_ spot. Sora felt his knees tremble. "You wanna come home with me?"

"Roxas...stop..." he pleaded weakly, mustering enough strength to glare at the blonde.

Roxas chuckled, a sound so identically different to his own, but stopped his ministrations long enough to peer worriedly into Sora's eyes, noting the haze that had glazed them over. "Hey, are you okay?"

He answered on autopilot, a bad habit but one he'd found near impossible to break. "I'm fine, Roxie."

"But—"

"Roxas, please." Sora felt a sudden weariness then—a familiar and resonating feeling in his heart due to his treatment—and all he wanted to do was sleep. "Please, just take me home."

Frowning, the blonde ushered Sora into the car, and they began the silent half-hour trip towards home.

* * *

Glass, yet again, was the only separation between Sora and the snow. Of course, he wasn't allowed to go on the balcony, in fear that he might jump and plummet the two stories to his death. He couldn't help but giggle at the thought. Adults were so paranoid. As if walking on the railing was remotely _dangerous_. Silly parents.

_What the hell?_

Deciding not to question his suddenly inane thoughts, he gave a slight shake of the head and went back to watching the snow through the glass. The house was quiet save for Roxas puttering around upstairs, and their parents were gone. Gloved palms lay flat on the panes, bare fingers tracing random designs in the fog as unwanted memories began to rise to the surface. He closed his eyes as a picture came to mind.

He could remember his first injection like it was yesterday.

They had told him that it would make him feel better, not as sad all the time. And he had let them, laying lethargically against the leather restraints that he had been kicking and screaming against mere minutes ago. He remembered the first kiss that the ice princess had bestowed upon his veins, felt the rush as she went to his brain. Felt the nothingness that came after. The feeling of being puppet-like, being a mere rag doll that anyone could bend to their will.

After attempting to go to school that day and almost getting molested on the way home due to his extreme lucidity—he swallowed, _thank God for Roxas_—they took him out of school.

And then after that, he had had to listen to Roxas come through the door every day of that dismal October and every month thereafter, eyes shining, lips full of babble about what drama had happened in school that day. Meanwhile, he had been shut up in his room with his tutor, a stuffy old pedophile with a cane that he enjoyed whacking on Sora's desk when he wasn't paying attention.

"Sora, you're thinking too hard."

The spiky brunette was too used to Roxas' random intrusions on his thoughts to bother reacting.

"Can I help you?" he said tonelessly, continuing to idly trace patterns on the glass.

Arms wound up his body and around his shoulders then, noting the tension in them. He could feel Roxas' breath on his neck, could feel his eyes boring into the back of Sora's head as he continued to stare blankly through the doors. "Kitten, what's wrong?"

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

"Sora—" he turned the brunette around his arms, ocean meeting ocean. His eyes were so powerful, so _intense_, so utterly focused on him that it made the boy want to scream. A tanned hand captured his sickly pale one, holding it as gently as if it were the most fragile porcelain, fingers trying to send a message that he didn't know how to receive. "Don't do this to yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sora, _please_—"

"Roxas, go away."

Hurt flashed in those eyes, his grip loosening. He knew that he had wounded the blonde, and Sora was disturbed by how..._undisturbed_ he felt by that. He didn't feel guilty, or upset, he just felt a numbing cold. "Sora—"

"I just _said_—"

Lips came crashing down on his then, the world seemed to drop out from Sora's feet as Roxas poured every ounce of passion he felt for his twin brother into that kiss. He felt the ice princess vanish, as though she had been a mere wisp of wind, felt everything that she had chased away return in a tidal wave of emotion and sound. He barely registered that he was crying bitter tears as the kiss ended and he felt Roxas' lips, like butterfly wings, brushing them away. "I—I'm sorry, Roxas...I'm so sorry—"

"Shhh, kitten. It's okay—" he felt arms encircle his waist and lips on his neck as he continued to sob.

It was not as though this situation was anything new to the two. For the past year, this beautiful disaster was a reoccurring nightmare that only stopped until the next push of the plunger. Somewhere along the way, mere hurt had turned into a deep, shattering ache that left Sora thisclose to flinging himself off the nearest building. Somewhere along the line, the distinction between brother and brother had been melted away, leaving _something_ behind that knew no boundary. They were simply Roxas and Sora, and other than that, they needed no explanation.

"Roxas?"

"Hmm?" A gentle hand wound its way through cinnamon locks.

"Is it over?"

Roxas stiffened.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't give Sora a straight answer, and they both knew it. The injections might have stopped, but something inside them told them that it was far from over. "I don't know, kitten."

"So lie to me."

Roxas couldn't help but smile sadly at the petulant tone in Sora's voice. It reminded him of when they were younger, before all this crap started, where Sora would pout and widen his baby blues to get what he wanted. Even now, his brother was staring at him with big, sad eyes that tugged on his heartstrings. But he couldn't lie to his lover. He knew better. "You know I can't do that."

There was silence for a few moments after that as the two watched the snow falling outside. "Roxas?"

"Hmm?"

"I—I need..."

There was a note that rang of hesitancy in Sora's voice, and after six months he knew what it meant. Without another word, Roxas scooped his twin up and took him to bed.

Hours later, Roxas pulled out of Sora's heated, sweaty body and lay next to him, panting. The dull after-ache of sex faintly throbbed within the brunette, tiny aftershocks teasing his body like mini orgasms of their own. His limbs trembled in spastic fits, his breathing erratic, his heart racing, his cheeks flushed pink. Sleepily, the blonde put an arm around Sora's waist, drifting off for a nap before their parents came home. He listened to his brother's heartbeat slow into the rhythm of sleep, and as he placed a butterfly's kiss to Roxas' lips, he made a promise to himself.

_I've been clinging onto those injections for far too long...I've had this disease for more than two years. And I couldn't walk away, every two weeks the ice fairy would come with her chills, and the relief only lasted until my next liaison with her. I tried to get away, and it was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Now, I will do it again, and this time it will be as easy as breathing._


	2. I: A Question

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: R**

**Chapter Warnings: Lemon, Language **

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A special thanks to vivid-ed for my first review. Reviews, as always, are welcome, because they give this poor author the will to live. –nods-**

**Enjoy!**

**Edit: This chapter has been revised and replaced to fix errors.**

* * *

**I: A Question**

* * *

"Sora, are you ready for school?"

The brunette groaned.

After a year and a half of staying at home, he was finally going back to school—something that he had longed for ever since he left. Hell, _anything_ was better than Mr. Burnstein whacking his cane around and boring his eyes into Sora's ass. Last night he hadn't been able to sleep due to a rare excitement, and he had gone to bed with his hopes high.

But everything had changed upon waking. The day of his freedom had finally arrived, and now going to school was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Sora, get _up_!"

"_Fine._ Damn," he mumbled under his breath as he slid his legs off the bed.

"Young man, did you say something?" his mother demanded.

"No, mother," he said sweetly as he tossed a pillow in Roxas' general direction. "Get up, asshole."

Roxas opened a bleary blue eye as the pillow smacked him in the forehead. "Huh?"

Sora ignored his brother as he began to pull clothes from his closet. He heard Roxas sit up and walk over, but the brunette continued to get dressed, frustration making his movements unsteady as he pulled dark jeans and a T-shirt on. His vision was blurry and he blinked furiously at the tears that obscured the varnished wood.

"Sora."

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"You know, you don't have to go."

He gritted his teeth. "I'm going, Roxas."

"I don't think—"

"Leave me _alone, _okay? I _said_ that I'm goi—"

Sudden pain blossomed in his back as Roxas grabbed his arms, turning him around and slamming him into the closet door. Chapped lips captured his, biting furiously on his lower lip, the blonde's body grinding sharply into his, sending small tremors of pleasure up his spine, through his mind, and back southward. The brunette moaned weakly as his twin began to nip at his neck...he knew that Roxas would be careful not to leave marks, but _damn,_ it _hurt._

"You're such a little bitch, you know that, Sora?" The blonde whispered roughly, teeth scraping on his collarbone, hand up his shirt and caressing his nipple. "Always yelling at people like you're the shit—I bet you like the feeling of my cock up your ass, you little cocksucker?" Roxas accentuated his statement with a sharp bite to Sora's ear. The brunette let out a sharp cry as the hand up his shirt pinched his nipple.

"Say it."

"_Roxas_."

"_Say it."_ The hand up his shirt began to drift lower, teasing the waistband of his jeans, making Sora wish that he'd never put the damn things on in the first place. God, but Roxas knew how much his mouth could affect his brother. The _roughness_ of the whole thing was turning him _on_.

"Yes—I love it—I can't live without it—" he all but screamed, knowing that the blonde was teasing him. The anger of earlier seemed to have evaporated, leaving the gritty entirety of desire behind. "Roxas, stop being so _mean_!"

"Do you want it, kitten?" A sinful tongue flicked in and out of his ear, an arm around his waist to hold him up, and that wicked, wicked hand pulled down his zipper and reached inside.

"_God_." He sunk his teeth into Roxas' neck to muffle his yells while the blonde's hand circled his erection.

"Do you?"

"Damn it, Roxas, hurry the fuck up!" He shook slightly as his resolve crumbled.

Roxas smirked and let go, reaching for the small jar conveniently on their closet shelf as Sora ripped his clothing off. Two cool fingers pressed themselves into him, scissoring themselves back and forth, and his nails scratched for purchase on the wall behind him at the burning feeling. Pushing back on them, the brunette let out a keening wail that went straight to the blonde's erection.

"Roxas...hurry up..."

The blonde moved the digits around, searching...and bent his fingers just _so_.

"_Yes_—" Sora hissed as his brother's fingertips brushed that spot inside of him. He felt his muscles turn to liquid and his knees threatened to give out as another finger joined its counterpart inside him.

"Are you ready?"

"_Please._" He breathed out a plea, pushing back on those glorious fingers. It felt good; he could feel the blood rushing through him as it became harder and harder to breathe.

Giving one last push with his fingers, Roxas removed them and buried himself to the hilt inside the brunette with one smooth thrust. Sora breathed out his name, which was quickly followed by a string of babble that was more _desire_ than actual words. Pressing kisses to his twin's sweaty forehead, he let Sora adjust before beginning to move at a slow, torturous pace that the brunette _could not take._

"Roxas, hurry—" he managed to gasp out as coherency began to fail him, lost in the feeling of being filled. Wiggling, he tried to move, but Roxas grabbed his hips and held them tightly. Still not satisfied with Sora's response, the blonde continued the agonizing pace, pressing harsh nips and licks to Sora's neck.

It was simply too much. Crying out, Sora grabbed a handful of his brother's hair and began to tug at it—anything to get a reaction. Finally seeing the desperation that he had been looking for, Roxas kissed him wantonly and let go of his self-restraint.

They fucked fast and furiously against the wall, Roxas pounding into his twin and Sora meeting him thrust for thrust. Stars were exploding in his vision as his brother kept hitting his sweet spot, hands on his hips and mouth nibbling at his ear. The brunette's blunt nails scraping against the blonde's shoulders, the pull on his hair, the brief scrape of teeth on his neck—Roxas suppressed a scream as his affinity for pain sent him over the edge. The feeling of his brother's seed inside of him proved to be too much and Sora's mouth opened in a silent scream as he came.

For all of his brother's demanding, Roxas loved the way that Sora went quiet as orgasm rocked his tiny body, collapsing wearily into Roxas' hold.

They shared a sweet kiss as the blonde pulled out, lowering his twin to the floor. Silence reigned for a while as they waited for their heartbeats to slow, the blonde idly tracing Sora's track marks.

The older twin didn't want to disturb the peace, but they had to talk about this. He didn't want his brother to make a decision that he would later regret. "I'm worried about you, Sora," he said quietly. "I don't want you to go back if you're not ready."

Sora gently took his brother's hand. "I have to do this. I can't keep running. I'm off the injections, and I have to get back to normal."

"That's not what's bothering you, though."

"You don't have to be afraid."

Almost violently, Roxas drew his twin closer as their lips met in a punishing kiss. His brother had proven to be more observant than anyone gave him credit for.

The brunette was right: Roxas was deathly afraid. School meant people, which meant many other arms for Sora to end up in. Sure, he didn't want to Sora to leave him, didn't want to lose the feelings that had been growing in him since they first kissed that July afternoon. But he also didn't want to force himself on his twin. Torn, he pressed even harder to his brother's lips as if this was the last kiss they would ever share.

"There's no reason for you to stay, Sora," he said as they broke apart, hating himself. But it was the truth and he couldn't escape it. "It's over. You don't need me anymore."

Sora felt panic slam into him, winding him and making breathing difficult. "Did you seriously think I only needed you because they were making me shoot up stuff?"

Roxas didn't answer. Sora felt his heart break. "Roxas...don't do this."

"I don't want to hurt you, Sora." The blonde detached himself from the brunette and stood up, going to hunt for clothes and a shower.

"Roxas!" Quickly standing up, the thrill of their activity fading to be replaced with a burn in his chest, he grabbed the blonde and hugged him from behind, feeling tears threaten to fall. "If you leave me, it'll hurt me more than anything that _they_ ever did. And I know you don't want that on your conscience."

"Sora, I'm being selfish. I shouldn't keep you from meeting people. Maybe there's somebody out there who is better for you than I am."

"I don't _want_ anyone else!" Sora felt the tears escape, making salty tracks down his reddened cheeks. He squeezed Roxas tighter, inhaling the blonde's unique scent. "Don't do this to us."

Silently, Roxas detached himself from the brunette. Sora held his breath as the blonde kissed him, and he laid his head on Roxas' shoulder, sniffling.

"I won't leave you," his brother said quietly. "And I'm sorry."

* * *

"What _took_ you so long?" their mother demanded as they came downstairs. "No breakfast for you if you don't want to be late." Tossing a Poptart to Roxas that he deftly caught, she gave him a once-over and waved him out the door. Sora reached out his hand for the treat, but his mother put a hand on his shoulder. "Sora, honey, you know you don't have to do this if you're not ready."

A familiar anger flared inside the brunette. He had been through this once already. "I'm _fine,_ mom."

Her stare was long, intense, and he squirmed under it. Finally, she nodded and pressed the treat into his hand. "Be careful. Roxas, watch over your brother!" she yelled in the blonde's general direction.

He mumbled something unintelligible in reply.

Rolling her eyes, she gave the brunette a gentle push towards the door. "Go now."

For a quick second, he looked back at her, and Mrs. Akiyama was overwhelmed by the emotions in her son's eyes—fear, hurt, resentment, and desperation. Fighting back the urge to cling onto the boy and never let go, she gave him another small shove.

"Go."

As her sons made their way through the door, into the car and towards the unknown, Isabella Akiyama broke down into tears.


	3. II: Of Friends and Fondles, Part Un

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language  
**

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix...er, and Disney. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: On last chapter, I received a few comments about how Roxas seemed bipolar. After talking it over with my beta, she said that he seemed mostly kind and caring, and then while they were having sex turned around and called Sora a cocksucker, among other things. He also wasn't too gentle. In this story, Roxas IS mostly kind and caring, but sometimes exhibits slightly masochistic and sadistic tendencies. Example - during the lemon, the pain from several different sources set him off. These tendencies rarely show up towards Sora, usually only during sex, and not too often at that. Sora just likes dirty talk. Roxas does love him very much, and would stop if asked, something I want my readers to understand. But what he does towards other people...well, you'll just have to see, won't you? Trust me, Roxas' characterization has a purpose.**

**Some more characters are introduced in this chapter, along with a teensy bit of fluff - enjoy!**

* * *

**II: Of Friends and Fondles Part 1  
**

Sora had expected people to be curious about his sudden reappearance for junior year, but he didn't expect the amount of interest that was put into the event. Honestly, Sora had kept mostly to himself, interacting on occasion with Roxas' friends and making only one or two of his own. However, the minute he stepped through the double doors with Roxas at his side, he could almost _hear_ the intrigue level spike.

"Hey, isn't that Roxas' twin?"

"That kid with the spikes from frosh year?"

"Who—wait, Sora's back?"

"Wasn't he sick or something?"

Evidently, his absence in the better part of last year's sophomore class and sudden reappearance in the middle of second term had been noticed. Scarlet flush on his cheeks, he walked towards his locker, his baggy clothing making him seem even smaller to those looking. Roxas noted his twin's distress and wanted nothing more than to hold him close, but he knew he couldn't—it would raise suspicion, something Sora didn't need. Even though his own locker was several hallways away, he walked his brother to his locker and watched as the brunette got his things organized, looking depressed. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hmm?" Sad blue eyes looked up at him.

"Listen, if you need anything, or you want to talk, just text me okay?" Their schedules were mostly mismatched; they had only Art and English together. "I'll have my phone on."

"Thanks, Rox." Roxas was happy to see his brother lighten up, even if it was just a little. "I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

"Sure," the blonde replied. Taking a quick glance to see if anyone was looking, he pressed a kiss to his brother's cheek. "Stay safe, kitten."

Sora watched his twin's retreating back, a pang of loneliness striking him briefly. Sighing, he gathered his things and headed to Physics.

* * *

The news of Sora's return had spread across the school in exactly 7.9 minutes, a new record. Speculation was rampant as to the prior whereabouts of the brunette among the upperclassmen, and it wasn't long until a certain silver-haired someone clued into the rumors circulating. Finely manicured hands clutched at a notebook and eyes widened as he listened to the tales eagerly being passed around by a group of giggling girls. He could hardly believe it, but looking at the situation from a logical angle, there was no way that the base idea was false.

_Wait, Sora's...back?_

Not far from there, crimson lips curled into a smile. Shoulder length hair swished back and forth, its ruby color catching the light as its owner absentmindedly twirled it around, lost in thought. "So, Akiyama's back? Hmm...but what was so important that he had to miss sophomore year? I'd certainly like to know."

The resident gossip queen, Kairi Whitebridge, was not happy. As soon as everyone knew, everyone came to her for answers—answers that she didn't have. She couldn't afford to lose the position that her talents (and her father) had placed her in. Pushing herself off the wall, she headed for her first class, a plan forming itself in her mind.

* * *

Sora's first class, to put it shortly, was hell. He would have preferred to sit in the back away from prying eyes, but being cursed with a last name at the top of the alphabet, he was front and center. The whispers surrounded him like a thick, suffocating blanket, and he could barely focus on what the teacher was saying. He had studied the theory behind the lab that they were doing with his tutor, but the positioning of the materials around the room and what exactly to do with them was a vague memory from freshman year. It didn't help that his lab partner was an obnoxious airhead with obviously dyed blonde hair and too much makeup who just _wouldn't shut up. _Swallowing, he sat up straighter and attempted to listen—he didn't want to screw up tomorrow. 

His Sidekick (a congratulations-you're-off-happy-pills present from his mom) gave a sensual vibrate in his pocket and he brightened, knowing who it was. Flipping it open, he clicked the open message option.

_**Hey, you—how is everything? **_

Smiling, he typed back, his grin slowly disappearing as he replied. _**Not so good...I have a headache and I can't focus.**_

_**Already? It's first period! Where are you now?**_

_**Physics. People are talking like I can't hear them and this dumb blonde next to me won't shut the fuck up.**_

_**Aww...I feel your pain, kitten. You—hey, do you have a problem with blondes?**_

Sora giggled. He felt better already. _**Maybe **_ _**>: D**_

_**Fuck you. Anyway, do you want me to come and walk you to your next class?**_

He hesitated. He would like nothing more than to see Roxas, if only for a few minutes, but he knew that the blonde had friends of his own and probably wanted to chat with them. Plus, his current class was on a different floor and on the opposite side of the hallway. _He's already doing so much for me, plus coming all the way over here will make him late for second period. I should leave him alone. _

_**That's okay. You don't have to...we'll meet up at lunch, okay?**_

Roxas didn't reply for a few minutes, and Sora was starting to worry that he'd offended him when a message popped up. _**Alright. Just ignore everyone, they don't matter anyway. I love you.**_

_**Love you too, Rox.**_

* * *

Second period, AP U.S. History, was a welcomed respite from first—the droning voice of Mr. Brittle easily put everyone to sleep. Sora relished the silence, a pleasant change from the stifled atmosphere of the Physics room. Walking out of the classroom, yawning, Sora made his way to his locker. Deft fingers twiddled the dial and he was reaching for his third and fourth period things when he suddenly felt someone put a hand on his ass and _squeeze_. And he was pretty sure it wasn't Roxas...

"RENO!" The brunette yelled, whirling around to face his friend, who was laughing his ass off. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Woah, woah, cool down, Sora—what's your damage, yo?" the spiky-haired senior said calmly, giving him a flirty look. "Heard you were back, just wanted to say _hello." _He slipped an arm around the teen's waist and drew him closer, a hand wandering dangerously south again...

"Reno, if you don't get your hands off me I swear to _God_—"

"Reno, stop it," A quiet voice came from behind them. Cloud, Reno's boyfriend, walked up and gave Sora a shy smile. "Hello, Sora."

"Hi, Cloud," Sora said, smiling back, inwardly feeling sorry for the blonde teen. Cloud had always seemed quiet and sad, even when Sora had first met him in Cloud's sophomore year. He had been happy for a while when he first started dating Reno, but it was no secret that the redhead used to be quite promiscuous, and even though he'd stopped sleeping around he continued to hit on everything that moved. Sora could see the strain that Reno's habits were putting on Cloud, despite his love for the redhead.

"I'm glad to see you're back, Sora," the blonde senior said softly.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, glad to have you back," Reno chimed in. "We have to get going or old man Rodney's going to kill us, yo. See you later, babe. Come on, Cloud." With a last quick squeeze, he darted out of Sora's reach before the brunette could strangle him and walked off, his boyfriend trailing behind him.

"Idiot," Sora mumbled, closing his locker with a bang and heading off to third period.

* * *

It wasn't long until lunch rolled around, something that Sora was both looking forward to and dreading. On one hand, he'd get to see his twin-turned-boyfriend, but on the other, he would be surrounded by the rest of the upperclassmen, all gossiping and staring at him. _Well, I suppose it can't be helped._

On his way to the cafeteria, he felt his Sidekick vibrate again. Ducking into a corner to check it, he smiled slightly when he saw the message. _**Don't buy lunch, okay? Go to the car, I'll be waiting.**_

Smiling inwardly as his mood improved, he made a quick stop at his locker to grab a coat before heading outside. It had stopped snowing for now, but the day was still overcast with a sharp breeze and Sora shivered as he made his way to the student parking lot.

Their car was unlocked, but he could faintly make out the lounging form of his brother in the back seat through the slightly tinted windows. Opening the car door, he got in and was immediately drawn into a soft kiss. "Hey, you," Roxas said when they parted.

Sora smiled up at him, feeling truly happy for the first time that day. "Hey."

Roxas brought a gentle hand up to his brother's cheek, caressing it gently. "I hope it hasn't been too bad for you."

"It's been...okay. I can handle it." Sora leaned into his brother's touch, silently asking for a kiss.

They stayed like that for a while, gently touching each other's faces and bodies as their tongues danced. Eventually, though, Roxas pulled away, and Sora could tell that the blonde was nervous by the way his foot had started jiggling. "Sora, listen, I...wanted to apologize again for this morning. You were right. I was being stupid."

The brunette couldn't help but smirk. "I know."

Sora yelped as Roxas gave him a soft slap to the back of his head. "Rox-_as,_" he whined. "You're being mean."

The blonde quickly kissed him again. "Stop pouting."

"I am _not_ pouting!"

"If you say so."

"_Yes,_ I do say so, thank you very much."

"You're too cute," the blonde said as he pecked his brother on the lips. "Look, I know you're right," he started, getting serious again. "It's just...I can't help but feel that I'm keeping you back."

"Rox, you know that's not true."

"I know. I just—" he quickly hushed as the brunette placed two fingers to his lips.

"Roxas, you're not keeping me back. Even before all of this started, I don't know how I would have gone on without you. And now that we're together...yeah." Sora rubbed the back of his neck. "You know I'm not good with these things."

Roxas gave a small smile. "Yeah, I know."

There was quiet in the car for a while. The snow had started falling again and the two brothers held each other, watching the snowflakes whirl to the ground. "Sora?"

"Hm?"

"I wanted to say sorry for this morning, so I...brought you something."

"Really?" Sora sat up, interested. "What?"

From his bookbag, the blonde produced a Tupperware container and something wrapped in foil. Taking the container he popped it open to find freshly made lasagna, one of his most favorite things in the world. Sora gave an appreciative grin. "Roxas, you shouldn't have." Setting the container aside, his twin's watching him with affection and amusement, he slowly undid the foil wrapper.

"_Oh—my—God—"_

The end of that lunch period saw Roxas with swollen red lips, a new hickey on his shoulder, and a satisfied smirk—and Sora happily munching on a toasted Poptart.

* * *

Sora ambled through the hallways to sixth period, careful to keep his expression blank but fondly replaying their lunch date in his mind. So caught up was he in his fantasies that he wasn't watching his path and slammed into someone. Stumbling, he braced himself for a fall when a gentle hand reached out and grabbed his elbow to hold him steady.

"Thank you so much, I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going—"

He stopped as he looked into the face of his savior. Familiar blue-green eyes stared back at him, filled with surprise and a slight, lingering hurt. Silver hair gleamed in the sunlight that was streaming through the window as the two stared at each other. It could only be one person.

"Sora—I—"

"_Riku?"_

* * *

**Cliffhanger. Being evil never felt this good. **

**Please review. They keep this poor author from giving up.**_  
_


	4. III: Three Decembers

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language, Implied Lemon  
**

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: Ugh. I did so much writing, rewriting, and sheer _bitching_ about this chapter that I'm surprised my beta didn't slap me. I hope you guys like it because I spent FOREVER angsting, ya?**

**To clarify before you start reading - in the first and second flashbacks, they're not dating. In the third they are. Thanks goes out to all my reviewers - to Metal Chocobo especially, he/she (I _think _it's a she...) really inspired me to finish this despite my difficulties. Thank you!  
**

* * *

**III: Three Decembers**

_**Flashback—December 2003**_

"_Hey, Sora, could I borrow—Sora?"_

_The house was silent, the only sound being the heavy patter of rain on their roof. It was an overcast day, and everything seemed...drenched. For some reason neither of them could comprehend, their parents had chosen to go out to dinner in this crappy weather, and the twins were alone. _

_Except, Roxas couldn't find his brother. And that worried him._

_He knew that his twin could take care of himself—they were fifteen, after all, hardly an age that required babysitting. But lately…Roxas couldn't help the worry that coursed through him. Sora had been….acting odd. Odder than usual. He seemed listless, not able to focus. The small teen had been eating less and less, despite the blonde's best efforts._

_And now, the brunette was nowhere to be found, and the blonde was hit by a sudden _need_ to know where Sora was. "Sora?"_

_Roxas checked the bedrooms. No Sora. He checked the kitchen. No Sora. He checked the bathrooms, the basement, hell, even under the beds—and no Sora._

_The blonde swallowed. There was only one possible place the brunette could be. _No. He wouldn't. Not in the freaking pouring rain...

_But, there was indeed a figure on the balcony—and Roxas nearly died. Sora was standing on the railing, only a sway away from two stories down and a snapped neck. "Sora, what the HELL do you think you're doing?"_

_Sora slowly turned his head, and Roxas held his breath, afraid that one wrong move would send Sora crashing on the cold, unforgiving ground below. The wind whipped the boy's hair and clothes about, giving him the appearance of something ethereal and the detached, yet burning look in his eyes made the blonde think of some beautiful, deranged angel. "You know, Rox," the brunette said dreamily, scaring the hell out of the blonde. "It's nice out here. It's cold."_

"_Sora, get down from there!"_

"_Isn't rain pretty?" The brunette continued with his inane thoughts, his spacey expression causing a sharp pain in Roxas' chest. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, almost drowning out the sounds of the rain and of Sora's voice. "It makes such nice rainbows. So colorful. I wish I had color."_

_Roxas knew now that telling Sora to get down would have no effect, so he went for a different tactic. "Sora, you do have color. You're so vibrant, filled with reds and blues and greens." _

"_No, I don't." Sora turned back to stare out over the grass below, looking forlorn. "I'm so gray."_

_At his brother's words, Roxas was filled with an unexplainable sadness and an urge to take his brother and hide him away from the cruelties of the world. He had never heard Sora sound this down before, and it frightened him. _Is something going on with him? Why didn't he tell me?_ "Sora, you're the most colorful thing I know."_

_Sora didn't reply, and Roxas was starting to get really worried when suddenly the brunette began to sway, giggling madly all the while. Pure terror lanced through his twin's heart as he rushed to his brother, the thunder rumbling frantically as to urge him on. Striding quickly and fearing every step as if the vibration would send Sora off the railing, he managed to wrap his arms around the brunette's waist before he lost his balance. _

"_Aww...Roxie, that's not fair!" The brunette giggled as Roxas hefted him off the railing and across the stone balcony. "You're such a meanie."_

_Not bothering to reply, the blonde tugged his brother inside, taking off his wet things and running him a bath. Once the brunette was clean and dry, dressed in a pair of pajamas and rubbing his hair with a towel, he caught Sora by the wrist as the boy made his way over to bed. "Sora," he started, looking into cerulean eyes. "Why were you out there?"_

"_It was too numb in here." Sad blue irises stared back at him. "I needed some air."_

"_Too _numb?_" Roxas could understand him saying too hot or too stuffy, but too numb? Deciding to let it go for now, he continued his questioning. "Why were you standing on the railing?"_

_Sora's reaction was so violent and sudden that it would later give Roxas migraines to think about how fast his brother moved—one moment he had had a gentle hold on the brunette's wrist, the next he had been flung clear across the room and Sora was standing in the middle, sobbing furiously. "I DON'T KNOW, okay? I just DON'T KNOW!"_

_Roxas got up from his heap on the floor, wincing as his back twinged, half dazed and half on high alert. Making his way back to Sora, he awkwardly drew the brunette into a hug and was startled as small hands latched onto his waist. "Roxas, I'm so sorry! I don't mean to be trouble, I just—I'm sorry! " the brunette sobbed into his chest._

_Something in Roxas died at that second. "You're not trouble, little brother. Why would you think that?"_

"_I-I'm always causing you problems, and getting you into trouble, and—I don't mean to—" a sharp hiccup cut his sentence off as he continued to cry._

"_I know, Sora. I know."_

* * *

_**Flashback—December 2004**_

_Sora's foot tapped against the carpeted floor, his mind swirling with a myriad of emotions as he sat in the principal's office. Across from him, Roxas sat in shock, his expression angry and disbelieving. To his right was his mother, looking regretful but determined, and to his left was his doctor, who was speaking._

"_...so, we feel that it would be better for Sora and for everyone involved if he withdrew from school."_

_The principal tapped his fingers on the cherry wood of his desk, and Sora prayed that he would raise some saving argument that would get him out of this. "But what about his education?" _

"_I'm sure that we can find a competent tutor. Do you agree, Mrs. Akiyama?"_

_Isabella looked away from Roxas' angry eyes, feeling guilt pulse within her for doing this to her youngest son. Her instincts were at war, the need to protect her son from everything versus the need to see him happy. She floundered for an answer, trying to ignore her oldest son's gaze. Finally, with a shaking voice and a remorseful heart, she agreed. "Yes, I think that we can find someone suitable._

"_But what about Sora's feelings?" Roxas burst out angrily, almost knocking over his chair with how fast he stood up. His brother looked so small and defenseless there, and it was _killing _him to see them decide his fate as he stood aside, helpless to change it. "What about what he wants?"_

"_Roxas, you know this is necessary—" _

"_I want to stay," came Sora's quiet voice. Everyone paused in their arguments to stare at him, not expecting him to speak. He kept his eyes on his quivering hands, not wanting to look at anyone. "It's not that serious. I don't want to leave school."_

"_Sora," the doctor turned to the brunette, "after what happened the other day, having you on medication and simultaneously in school just isn't possible. Had your brother not been on his way to you, I shudder to think of the consequences."_

"_Sora," his mother gently caught one of his hands between hers, and the brunette had to resist the urge to scream. "Honey, this isn't because we think you should be put away. It's to keep you safe, do you understand?"_

_Sora didn't bother responding. He knew that no matter what he said, the decision was already made. He wasn't going back to school after Christmas break._

_The temperature had lightened a bit, and it was raining instead of snowing. The sound of it entranced him, and he stared, unblinking, at the torrent. There was silence and a tension to think one could almost touch it as everyone cast about for something to say to comfort the small brunette blankly staring out the window. _

"_Well," the principal said, giving a nervous laugh and clearing his throat, "You have always been a diligent, upstanding student, Sora. We will miss you—how long, exactly, will he be out of school?"_

"_Hmm..." the doctor scratched his chin in thought. "Given what I know about his mental state and medical history, I'd say ten to thirteen months, if all goes well."_

"_Well then, Sora, you shall be back sometime next year, I presume? Well, there will always be room for you here. I hope everything goes according to plan."_

"_Thank you, sir." Getting up, he left without another word, tears glazing over his blue eyes—he couldn't bear to stay any longer._

_Roxas didn't know whether or not the adults in the room had seen his brother about to fall apart, but he sure had. The two had always shared that razorblade connection that came with being twins, and everything one felt caused a faint echo in the other. Roxas felt this stinging pain deep inside of him that he instinctively knew belonged to Sora. The blonde resisted the urge to pull at his own hair and dug his nails into the leather upholstery, hoping that his brother would be okay._

"_Well," said Isabella as she put on her coat and gloves, "Thank you for your time, Mr. Kaiwan."_

"_It is not a problem, Mrs. Akiyama. Roxas, I shall see you after Christmas break?"_

"_Yes, sir," he mumbled._

_That Christmas had not been a good one. Sora refused to get out of bed, and their presents to him only put the barest of sparkles in those crystalline eyes. He only left the house for doctor's appointments, wouldn't talk anymore during his shrink sessions, and ate nothing but the occasional Poptart._

_Roxas had tried everything to cheer Sora up. He brought his brother his favorite foods to tempt his appetite, clothes and trinkets that the brunette had been eyeing before all of this started. Sora always smiled and said thank you, but would only take a few bites or finger the object before putting it aside and laying back down._

_The night before Roxas returned to school, he did something that he hadn't done since second grade: he crawled into his brother's bed and held him tightly. Sora said nothing, but the blonde could feel hot tears staining his chest and the fine tremble in the boy's body. He buried his nose in the cinnamon spikes and wished that this wasn't _happening,_ that his brother wasn't being broken by an amber syringe and an unforgiving needle, that this was all some twisted nightmare or a figment of some deity's imagination. But he knew reality, he just didn't want to face it. So, he simply held the dying boy and let him cry, placed a small kiss on his forehead, and kept silent vigil._

_Eventually, Sora slept._

* * *

_**Flashback—December 2005, Two Weeks Prior**_

"_Sora," the older man began, and the brunette lifted his head off the cot to stare at his doctor. "I've been having a few interesting conversations with your psychiatrist."_

_He sat up quickly, panic striking him. He could feel his hands start to quake, and the emotions that the ice princess held at bay were in danger of bursting forth. _Do they think I'm unstable? Are they going to send me somewhere? _"C-conversations like what, sir?"_

_The doctor, noting his tense figure and wild eyes, hastened to quell the brunette's worries. "Nothing bad has been said. In fact, I think you'll like this news."_

_Some of the panic abated, but not all of it. Sora had a year of experience that told him that doctors had a very fucked up opinion about what the patients would enjoy. "Yes?"_

"_Starting with your next injection, we're going to start weaning you off the antidepressants. Your psychiatrist has told me that you seem to be getting better, and in your current dosage the medicine would do more harm than help."_

"_Really?" The brunette would probably have started bouncing up and down, but the princess still had a hold on his mind and curbed his enthusiasm. Even though he knew the brunette was lethargic and couldn't respond the way he wanted, Dr. DiZ could see the light dancing in Sora's eyes._

"_Yes, really." _

_Both his mother and brother were almost hyper at the news, and the family went out to dinner, something they hadn't done in months. After their mother had gone to bed, Roxas took his brother and made love to him with a tenderness that had the brunette in tears when it was over. The blonde rubbed his back and rained kisses on his face as cried, a small bit of hope that hadn't been present in so long sparking in his heart._

"_Shh, Sora. Don't cry, my love. Everything is going to be okay."  
_


	5. IV: Of Friends and Fondles, Part Deux

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG**

**Chapter Warnings: None  
**

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: Kairi appears in this chapter! Er, she's supposed to be a bit of an airhead, so all of you Kairi lovers are going to hate me this chapter and next. I'll explain everything next chapter, ne?  
**

**There's going to be a bit more fluff in this chapter. I know, maybe I'm going a bit overboard with it, but I want to clearly get the point across of how strongly they feel about each other before the problems start appearing. Which they will, starting...next chapter. : D**

**You'll also be seeing some Riku angst - and a BIG foreshadow is made, so watch out for that, okay?  
**

**This chapter is dedicated with love and affection to Hakumei-chan, who has submitted most of my reviews and who really encourages me to keep writing. Thank you, you're special to me and really appreciated here. All of my other readers, I love you too, and don't forget to review.  
**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**IV: Of Friends and Fondles, Part 2**

"_Thank you so much, I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going—" _

_He stopped as he looked into the face of his savior. Familiar blue-green eyes stared back at him, filled with surprise and a slight, lingering hurt. Silver hair gleamed in the sunlight that was streaming through the window as the two stared at each other. It could only be one person._

"_Sora—I—"_

"Riku?"

Sora adjusted his books in his arms as he stared into the eyes of his former best friend. The senior didn't look so well—there were black shadows under his eyes, his normally immaculate silver hair was in disarray, and his entire disposition spoke of sleepless nights. _Probably studying, knowing Riku._ Realizing that the older boy still had a grip on his elbow, he removed it will a small cough, and Riku jerked his hand behind his back, a flush burning on his cheeks. Eventually, he stuttered out, "Sora...you're back?"

"Yes," he said, dreading the conversation that was about to take place.

"Why...didn't you tell me that you were leaving? I haven't heard from you in a year. I thought," the boy swallowed and Sora could feel guilt welling up inside him, "I thought we were best friends."

Sora was frantically searching for a way to reply as those blue-green eyes stared sadly at him. The level of guilt was steadily rising, the memory of his date with Roxas dimming in comparison to the unpleasant sensation. Riku almost reminded him of Cloud, except the blonde had mostly always been that way. Sora had _never_ seen Riku in such a state, and his heart twisted.

Luckily for him, the late bell rang, reminding him that he was late for Pre-Cal. "Look, Riku, I've got to get to class. We'll talk, I promise. Okay?"

Flashing a quick, empty smile, he hastily walked away, the guilt being replaced by depression. _Maybe Roxas was right. Maybe I wasn't ready to come back..._

* * *

The senior watched his friend walk away, spikes quivering on his head with every step he took, gait fast, hurrying away from him. Turning away from the sight, he began to trudge towards his own sixth period.

Something had happened to Sora, something bad, he could just _feel_ it. He seemed more subdued than ever, and the spring in his step was all but gone. And whatever it was...the brunette hadn't told him. A familiar hurt flared up inside him, making the senior suddenly want to sob. What was worse, he had Gym now...and _he_ was in that class.

Riku had been lonely the past year. Sora had left, and the cheerful, easygoing presence that accompanied the sophomore and brightened up his day went along with it. He hadn't even known if the brunette was coming back or not. Almost invisible, the silver-haired boy had listlessly gone through his days, studying and missing Sora. Those..._feelings,_ those things that he couldn't identify, peaked and waned as the weeks drew on, something he couldn't understand. Eventually, they had simmered into a cesspool of longing and damage. He wasn't sure if it would ever go away.

It had been February, the February after Sora's disappearing act. Riku's grades had been on the decline, his body tired, his heart heavy. He went to school, came home, attempted homework, then went straight to bed. His already pathetic social life evaporated, his love life was already nonexistent save the hesitant feelings that burned deep within him, he was simply drifting through life on autopilot...

And then, he met _him._ That redheaded ball of fire that had turned his life upside _down...  
_

* * *

Sora left the Pre-Calculus room in a hurry, fuming. That stupid woman had made him sing "I'm A Barbie Girl" complete with dance moves in front of the class for coming in late before she'd let him sit down. _What a great way to start school,_ he thought dully as he remembered the shrieking laughter that accompanied his rendition. _At least I get to spend the next two periods with Rox, and then we can go home..._Juniors had 8 periods in their day as opposed to the underclassmen's 9, and seniors had even less, depending on their credit levels. 

Hastening his steps to the English room, his good mood was once again dimmed at the thought of Riku, standing in the hallway, looking like a lost little boy. The sheer _loneliness_ and despair in the other boy's eyes disturbed Sora greatly, along with a burning _something_ that Sora could, regretfully, identify. He, after all, saw it in Roxas' eyes every time the blonde laid eyes on him. _Oh, Riku...I should have told him I was leaving. I think I messed him up pretty bad..._

Lost in thought, he bumped into someone—again—as he approached the English room. A familiar laugh filed his ears as he stumbled but managed to stay on his feet and he glanced up to see Roxas smiling down at him. "You might want to watch where you're going, little brother."

Sora vaguely heard what the blonde was saying, but his mind was still with Riku. _I wonder what happened when I was gone...I don't recall him feeling that way about me..._

When Sora didn't smile or acknowledge him, a little worried frown appeared on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Hmm—what?" Finally snapping out of it, he gave his brother a wan smile, feeling slightly bad about spacing out on him. "Oh—hey, Roxas."

"You okay?" Roxas grew worried. _Is he still upset about this morning? Did I do something wrong at lunch?_

"Me? Oh, yeah—I'm fine."

When the blonde continued to look concerned, he gently gave him a push into the huge, amphitheater-like classroom. They found seats together in the back row. "You absolutely sure? Something happened, didn't it?"

The brunette sighed. The blonde really knew him too well. "Nothing serious...I just had a run-in with Riku, is all."

Roxas frowned.

He _really_ didn't like the sound of that.

In all honesty, he wasn't really worried about romantic competition from the older boy. Despite Sora being known as single, he had faith in the brunette not to cheat on him. What _bothered_ him was that he knew Sora hadn't told his best friend anything, and Riku would surely want an explanation. One that he knew Sora wasn't ready to give. Plus, he knew Sora knew about Riku's feelings, and he wouldn't put it past the senior to guilt the brunette into something—and he couldn't interfere, because it would put them under suspicion. Roxas felt like bashing his head repeatedly into something. This was _so_ unfair.

A tiny hand slipped itself into his, away from the gazes of other students. Small fingers caressed his palm, working their way to the spaces between his fingers and resting themselves there. Roxas felt reassuring warmth being softly traced into his palm, and he was momentarily hypnotized by the beauty of Sora's hesitant smile. He could feel the slight tremble in the brunette's hands as he waited anxiously for his twin's response, could feel his nervousness that Roxas was going to be angry with him. Catching the brunette's aquamarine gaze he sat perfectly still, entranced by the light shining in those ethereal pupils, flecked with green and gold.

Without speaking a word, the blonde brought their joined hands to his mouth and softly kissed his brother's hand.

They listened to the professor speak and took vague notes, but all period all they understood was each other.

* * *

The twins made their way to the art room. Throughout his tenure at home, art class was something that he'd missed the most. It was only an added bonus that Sora was ambidextrous—he could wield two mediums at once with absolutely no problem. When they were younger, it was also something Roxas has been furiously jealous of.

_Roxas._

The brunette felt his face heat up at the thought of his twin and last period. The whole day hadn't been as bad as he thought it would be, honestly. Sex in the morning, making out at lunch, that special..._something_ that had passed between them during English. Even he couldn't find a word to describe it.

Roxas glanced over at his twin, noting the cute flush on his cheeks, and smirked. Sora looked much better now, and they only had to get through one more period before they were home free.

He noted Sora brightening even as they entered the cool but well-lit room. It looked like a cross between a backstage prop room and studio—there were murals all over the walls, random objects that students could borrow for sculptures spilling out of bins, and clean materials everywhere. Mrs. Rookwoode, the art teacher, was also very lenient and allowed them to draw or paint what they wanted if they weren't assigned something specific.

Claiming their favorite seats, Roxas covertly watched with a fond smile as the brunette immediately grabbed some pencils and paper and began the outlines for something. Taking some paint instead for himself, he dipped his fingers in it and started an abstract.

Their peaceful silence was interrupted by the loud shriek of a chair being dragged across the ground in front of them as a figure sat in it. Red hair, small figure, crimson lips and too much makeup—it could only be one person.

"Hey, Sora! Heard you were back, and you didn't even come talk to me? I feel so _hurt,_ I thought we were _friends_." She leaned over the back of the chair and rested her elbows on the back of their table, giving Sora a full view down her shirt.

The brunette's eye twitched at the interruption, and he put his supplies down as he straightened and stared directly into her eyes. Roxas couldn't help but feel a pang of indignation. _That's really improper of her. I don't get why she had to disturb the peace like that._ Roxas knew how passionate he was about art, and he also knew that Sora was sick of being reminded of his absence.

His voice was so low and dangerous, the sound went straight to Roxas' crotch and sent wanton shivers through him as Sora addressed the girl.

"Hello, Kairi."


	6. V: Conversations

**Watercolor **

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Language, Slight Citrus**

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot and the characters Isabella and Yashiro Akiyama.**

**A/N: Okay. I know that after reading this chapter, some of you Kairi fans are going to hate me. Now, I'm only going to say this once: this fic is in no way, shape, or form a bash fic. Really, it isn't, despite the fact that I don't like her much. This chapter is probably the meanest I will ever be to her, description and attitude-wise, I promise. She will act less and less of a bimbo as the story goes on, and I'm even contemplating her turning out good in the end. It was just better for the plot if she was this way, for now. Also, I know that Kairi is notoriously flat-chested. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea. Sorry.**

**For more info and updates and stuffies, visit me at my website, found on my profile.**

**I've been angsting about this chapter, I read it over and it sounded...clunky. I just hope my readers aren't too disappointed...nervous****  
**

**Anyway, the trouble starts here, folks - wave your fond goodbyes to fluffy goodness. BUT, I'd like to tell you that the next chapter will be rather light-hearted for the most part, and will feature members of everyone's favorite sadistic, sinister, and oh-so-sexy Organization 13.**

_**Yeah, baby.**_

**kaboom **

* * *

**V: Conversations**

Sora was confused.

He had been starting a...rather personal sketch, and was well into it. The lines and contours of the shapes and figures in the piece were all coming together with soft scritches and scratches of his pencil. Next to him, he felt the presence of his lover, hard at work, fingers that had been inside of him a scarce few hours ago now covered in gray and black paint. The silence had been comforting, the lingering dream of last period and the calm atmosphere of the room made their emotions towards each other settle in the background like a pleasant hum.

Suddenly, this overly loud, obnoxious and indecently-big-boobed _thing_ had come out of nowhere and disturbed the peace. And the loss of that harmony had Sora disoriented.

So, as aforementioned, Sora was confused.

Pissed off at his broken concentration, he greeted her coolly, inwardly wondering what she wanted. After all, they hung out with different crowds, were in no way close, and he had no obligation to tell her _anything_ about his absence.

Plus, she acted like a hooker. The way that she was thrusting her tits into his face was a prime example.

Glancing over at Roxas to see his reaction, he was surprised to see a...glazed expression on the blonde boy's face instead of the expected anger. Deciding to worry about it later, he tuned in to Kairi's ramblings.

"...and Sora, the rumors floating around are just _terrible_! People have been saying all kinds of mean things about you—how can you standit?" she cooed, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I don't really care about what people think," he said tersely, wanting nothing more than for her to leave so he could get back to his work.

"But _Sora,_" he was appalled as she leaned even further over the desk. "Don't you want people to know the truth? I mean, it has to suck having these lies floating around."

Sora glanced over at his brother as the blonde snapped out of his daze and answered her question. "I don't think it's anybody's business what my brother was up to."

"Of course it isn't," the girl said, acquiescing way too easily. "But maybe it would be better if someone knew. Someone _trustworthy,_" she put emphasis on the word and Roxas inwardly sneered, "to help dispel all the unpleasantness. Wouldn't you say so?"

The brunette felt trapped. Kairi's probing was bringing up some memories that he really didn't want to think about at the moment. He could feel his good mood, yet again, evaporating as he cast about for an answer that wouldn't be too rude. Unfortunately, Roxas beat him to it.

"Hmm..." The blonde pretended to ponder. "How about this: when I find someone trustworthy, I'll let them know, ne? But for now, it's nobody's business."

The girl kept smiling, but both of them saw the flash of anger that seared through her eyes for a brief second. "Well, if that's how you feel about it, Roxas..."

"Yes, that is how _we_ feel about it." The blonde resisted the urge to put a protective arm around his brother's shoulders. "Now, I think Sora was working on something. As _pleasant,_" the word was dripping with sarcasm, "as your visit was to us, I think he'd like to get back to it."

"Of course!" She said, getting of their table and immediately dropping the nice act as she walked away. Kairi wasn't dense, she had understood Roxas' implied insults. Plus, Sora had looked panicked when she had asked for information; his brother had had to cover for him.

Her words were bathed in venom when she spoke to herself: "Now I _know_ something's going on. And I want to find out what."

* * *

"Ugh," said Roxas as they were swept along by the crowd of upperclassmen leaving the building, the sophomores and freshmen watching them longingly from their classroom windows. "The _nerve _of her. I mean, the girl barely acknowledges our existence normally, and then out of nowhere she demands we tell her things?"

Sora merely 'hmmed' in agreement, his thoughts elsewhere—namely, on a certain green-eyed boy. Roxas gave his brother a worried look. "Hey, you in there?" he asked as he opened the car door.

"Huh?" The brunette said blankly as he got in.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking about some things."

The blonde smirked at him. "Don't hurt yourself, now."

Roxas yelped as he was sharply slapped on the back of his head by a smug-looking Sora. "Ow!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"Prat." He said affectionately, stealing a quick kiss before they pulled out of the parking lot. There was a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the engine, Sora's humming, and of the wind whistling past them the only sounds heard. Suddenly, Sora's Sidekick began to vibrate, and Roxas gave his brother a quick glance before refocusing on the road. "Who's that?"

"One second..." Sora mumbled as he flipped it open and checked the message from his mom. "Damn it!"

"What's wrong?"

"It's from mom." The brunette promptly began to bang his head against the back of the seat, groaning in frustration. "Dad's home."

The blonde uttered a string of curses under his breath before changing lanes a little too sharply, causing a cacophony of horns to sound around them. Sneering at the noise, he silently fumed, the unpleasant surprise turning his already questionable mood sour.

Mr. Akiyama, their father and the source of Roxas' blonde hair, had a job that required a lot of travel, and he often stayed away from his family for long periods of time. But when he came home...Roxas gripped the steering wheel tighter, anger flaring up at him at the mere thought of his dad.

Mr. Akiyama was not the nicest man. He had been a major set-back in the brunette's progress—every time he came home either Sora or his mother would end up in tears. He would start attacking at dinner, criticizing Roxas' grades and their mother's cooking and making scathing comments about Sora's illness. Both brunettes wouldn't say much, just letting the man rant, but Roxas often had to resist the urge to punch his father's smug face for hurting his mother and brother. His mother especially—he often heard her crying at night sometimes and knew she missed him, only to have him come home and be so cruel. It really wasn't fair.

After the two had gone to bed, Roxas would often sit up with Sora, bring him water and rubbing his back as he cried. Sometimes he simply rocked the smaller boy back and forth, and sometimes Sora would ask him to make him forget—they would have very angry sex, the blonde driving into his brother, trying to chase his hurt away. During their dad's last visit two months ago, Sora had been so upset that he requested his brother be especially rough. And Roxas, having certain talents that he normally didn't divulge to the public, eagerly took up the challenge.

It was the first and only time Sora had bled during sex.

The brunette was tense and unusually silent as they pulled into the driveway—his earlier humming stopped, the tapping noises he made with his fingers and the window silenced. Every quivering nerve in Sora's body was taut with nervousness, and his mind was on high alert.

Sighing in resignation, the blonde cut the engine and drew his brother into a slow kiss, licking at his lips for entrance, languidly dancing tongues with the smaller boy. He wanted Sora calm when they walked through that front door—he knew that his twin would get nervous and say something that their father would take offense to if he was already on edge.

Breaking the kiss, he began to press kisses to the milky-white flesh of Sora's throat. "Sora, baby, you're so tense," he whispered as a hand unzipped the shorter boy's jacket and found its way under his shirt, teasing the skin there. "Babe, you need to relax," he continued, fingers circling and pinching a nipple. Sora sharply intook breath, mouth working as he tried to form words through the haze that was filling his brain.

Roxas smiled against the hollow of his brother's throat, flicking his tongue in and out of the small indentation there and giving a slightly insane giggle at the choked sounds coming from Sora's throat. "You trying to say something, baby?" he teased.

Mustering enough lucidity to glare weakly at the brunette, Sora managed to garble out, "We really—mmm—need to get insi—i—de..." the word tapered off into a breathy gasp as the hand under his shirt began to wander south.

His brother a melted puddle in his arms, Roxas had no problems letting go, his goal accomplished. He could always get the brunette later. Tenderly, he smoothed out his brother's slightly mussed hair, hand trailing from his head to cup a pale cheek, caressing the skin there with his thumb. "Listen," he said, his voice soft. "Whatever happens in there, remember that I love you, alright? Mom doesn't love you in the same way, but she loves you too, and we're a family—you, her, and me. We don't need him, and I don't want you to feel bad because he's trying to belittle you for being where he will never deserve to be. Okay?"

"Okay," Sora gave a firm nod, and Roxas could tell that he was ready.

* * *

Isabella looked up from stirring a pot on the stove when the sound of keys hitting wood resonated through the kitchen. "Oh, hello, boys," she said, smiling and putting a cover on the pot, turning the heat on low. Giving Roxas a quick peck on the cheek, she took Sora's face in her hands, brown staring into blue. "How was your day, honey?"

It was a loaded question, something that they both understood. Even though the past year had been hard on them, they had developed a language—and it was easy for Sora to tell what his mother was really saying.

"It was okay."

"Just okay?"

"Yeah, just okay."

"Did anybody bother you?"

Worry was starting to form in her eyes, and Sora hastened to quell her fears. "No—people were gossiping, but no one bothered me." _Well, not counting Kairi,_ he thought with a small pang of annoyance.

Smiling in relief, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back to cooking.

Two hours later, Sora closed his textbook with a snap, flopping onto his bed and closing his eyes. He had rushed through his homework, wanting to get everything out of the way before dinner. _I probably won't be able to concentrate after dinner, anyway, _he thought grimly. _And I promised to call Riku too..._

Roxas glanced up from his laptop. "What's up?"

Groaning, Sora buried his face in his pillow. The blonde went back to typing, eyes fixed on the screen. "Worried about dinner?"

"No, not really," he said with a sigh. "I sort of promised to call Riku tonight."

"Kitten, you know you don't have to tell him anything," Roxas said, shooting his brother a worried frown.

"I don't know...I feel like I have to, somehow. I mean, we were best friends. And I know he's missed me—I mean, I just left without saying anything."

"Sora, you're not ready. As your brother and your boyfriend, I think I'd know." Concentration now totally shot, the blonde shut down the computer and joined his brother on his bed. "If you make yourself do something before you're ready for it, it'll hurt you. We've been through this before."

Both of them immediately remembered the first time they had attempted to have sex...

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_It had been three months to the day of their first kiss. Sora hadn't been doing very well—Roxas had plucked him off the balcony, giggly and swaying once again, and Dr. Mouse had been disturbed by some of the things Sora had said during a session. They had doubled his dosage, two and a half syringes full of liquid antidepressants had been pumped into his bloodstream earlier that day. Currently, he was lying on his bed, his brother on top of him, their lips locked tightly together._

_Sora was trying to reciprocate, really he was, but he was so..._empty. _Everything felt numb, the air itself felt stale and choking, and it was scaring him. So the second they had heard their mother close her bedroom door, he had pulled his brother atop him and tried to get the blonde to touch him._

_To his credit, Roxas had tried to convince Sora that it was a bad idea. The princess had Sora under the influence still, and Roxas didn't like the idea of taking advantage of his brother while the brunette was so helpless. But Sora had kept _teasing _him, evil lips had caressed his flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder as he ground into Roxas' crotch until the blonde had lost control. Now, the taller boy was rocking against his brother furiously, sparks of pleasure rocketing through him as he brought them closer to orgasm. _

"_Rox-as...I want—" Even though his pleasure was seriously toned down by the medicine, it still felt good. But he wanted to feel _more_—wanted to feel his brother inside of him, _needed_ to feel his brother inside of him. Maybe it would make the princess go away. "I want you. Please."_

_Roxas slowed his ministrations, the haze expression of lust and affection quickly being replaced by concern. "Are you sure? Maybe that isn't the best idea—I mean, you're still kinda dazed—"_

"Roxas." _The brunette firmly grasped his twin's shoulders. "I need to feel. I need to feel you inside of me, I can't feel anything and I'm so scared..."_

_Blushing slightly at Sora's blatant words, he cradled his brother gently. "Are you sure you want this?"_

"Yes."

_Roxas took a deep breath and kissed his brother on the cheek in submission. "...alright."_

_Getting off the bed, he picked up a small bottle of lotion and sat back down, settling himself between his brother's legs. Slightly nervous but mostly anxious to throw the princess off, Sora lay back against the pillows, legs spread._

_Slightly quaking fingers dipped themselves into the bottle and then made their way between the brunette's legs, penetrating him for the first time. A slow burn erupted inside Sora as the finger wiggled inside of him—his mind felt like a slushy as he struggled to break through the princess' hold._

_A second finger was added, and then a third, and with every digit the internal struggle worsened. Finally, the fingers were gone and something bigger pressed at his entrance._

_Sora screamed._

_The princess had suddenly let go, and sheer _feeling _was rushing back, thoughts and emotions crashing into him with a roar of inaudible sound, surrounding him in their embrace and telling him that this was all _wrong—_hedidn't want it to happen like this. He shouldn't have led his brother on—_

_Roxas had frozen at the scream, quickly pulling out and gathering the sobbing brunette into his arms. "Sora, please don't cry," he soothed, making shushing noises._

"_I'm sorry, Roxas," the brunette cried. "I'm really sorry, I just _couldn't_—"_

_The blonde's arousal was aching for attention, but he ignored it as he held his brother close. "I love you, baby. You're so beautiful, please don't cry."_

_Hiccupping, Sora eventually fell into a fitful sleep. Roxas held his brother as he slept, his heart grieving for the mind of a dying boy._

* * *

"That wasn't a good night, was it?" Sora asked softly.

"I was so scared when you screamed, baby." Roxas whispered as if speaking louder would break the moment. "I thought I was hurting you, I wanted to know what she was doing to your mind.

"She kept fighting to keep me under her control, and then she suddenly let go, I couldn't take it." He propped his elbows on the chest of the boy he laid on top of, putting his face in his hands as gentle fingers stroked his hair. "You were very gentle, it wasn't you."

Smiling in response, the tanned hand continued to navigate the cinnamon spikes, and they stayed like that until dinner.

* * *

Swallowing, Sora entered the dining room. The delicious smells wafting from the kitchen did nothing to calm his nerves at seeing the man sitting at the table.

"So there's the sickly one," his father said disapprovingly. "You're so scrawny, boy."

Biting back any comments, the brunette sat down, Roxas sitting next to him and giving his hand a quick squeeze under the table.

Dinner looked wonderful. His mother had really gone all out, but everything tasted like sawdust in Sora's mouth. His father had finished most of his food, and Sora knew it was coming...

"So," Mr. Akiyama started, "You're out of the hospital, I hear?"

"Yes, father," Sora said, keeping his eyes on his plate, not wanting to say anything else.

"Well, it's about time. I won't have one of my children in and out of the hospital like some invalid. It's bad for our image."

There was a sudden spike of tension in the room as Roxas bristled in anger, about to jump to his brother's defense. Sensing the growing danger, Isabella quickly intervened. "Now, honey, it's not Sora's fault—"

"Isabella, I love you, but you baby them too much. So the boy was feeling a little down—tough. There was no need to get outside people involved—"

"I don't think you have any right to say that," Roxas bit out, glaring at his father.

"Young man, I don't think you have any authority as to what I can and can't say." His father gave him a warning look, which he ignored.

"What, so if he gets the urge to suddenly hurt himself he shouldn't tell someone?"

"Stop being dramatic, son." The man took a sip of wine, and Roxas wanted to smash the wineglass into his face for being such a bitch. "Isabella, I think that something needs to change around here if our sons are being turned into such pansies. I mean, a little hardship and they go yanking on professional coattails, while we have to shell out the cash for their whims?"

Anger was bubbling up inside Roxas, a tsunami of fury threatening to break over him and shatter the last of his self control. He didn't know which to do first, kill his dad or comfort Sora, who looked like he was about to cry.

"I don't think that's pretty fair," the man went on. "We work so hard, and what do we get in return? Embarrassment, because our youngest is a pillow-biting wuss that likes to over-dramatize what he's 'going through'—"

"You have no clue about what Sora was going through!" Roxas finally yelled, standing up.

"_Roxas Suguru Akiyama, you sit down right now—"_

"Leave him alone! Just because he needs medicine and some help doesn't make him any less tough or any less of a person, so don't you dare belittle him! Plus, you were never here, and you don't know ANYTHING about what was happening with us, so just shut _up_!"

"Roxas." Isabella said quietly, putting a hand on her husband's arm before he started yelling. The furious teen turned to his mother, fury blazing in his eyes. "Please, sit down."

"Mother—"

"_Please."_

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Roxas sat down.

The smaller teen had sat completely still throughout the entire argument, frozen with fear. He couldn't believe that Roxas would defy their father like that, and he didn't know whether to be touched or scared as hell that their father would retaliate. Deep inside, the hurt was crushing him, disbelief at his father's words being overridden by the accusations. Under the table, he quickly grasped his brother's hand as the blonde sat down, needing the simple touch more than air. Roxas squeezed his palm reassuringly, tracing the contours of the boy's hand.

Across from them, their mother was trying to find words for what she was about to say. She knew that her sons were angry at their father's ignorance of their situation, and she hoped what she had to tell them would help.

"Roxas," she began, "Your father and I have been discussing something for the past few months, something that I'm sure you'll be pleased about." She took a deep breath, and the twins waited for what she had to say. "You're right about him not being here, and even though I don't like how you expressed yourself, you have a point. So we've decided..." she glanced at her husband, who was eagerly waiting for her to finish, "that your father would be changing jobs, which means..."

"That I'll be living at home again."

Silence.

Cricket, cricket.

In that moment, Sora's world came to an abrupt halt. Next to him, Roxas looked equally stunned and the hold that the taller boy had on his hand tightened. Their father watched both their reactions, smirking.

"Surprise."


	7. VI: Le Café Noir

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG**

**Chapter Warnings: Language**

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: This chapter basically introduces the third of the four (or possibly five) main couplings of this story. Xemnas and Saix are one of the two calmer pairings, but writing them gave me HELL, especially the blue-haired brat. I only had their appearances, Wikipedia, and some personality info that my lovely beta My hand held in yours supplied me with to base myself off of. I was pleasantly surprised to finish the chapter and be told that I did a good job keeping them in character. **

**Er, nothing much to say except that Xemnas obviously doesn't respect Cloud very much. You'll see why next chapter. It's written and beta-approved already, I just have to get a jump on Chapter 8 before it gets posted. It'll be up in a few days, as always. Thanks to my lovely reviewers, please continue reviewing. You've been a true inspiration.  
**

**Enjoy!  
**

* * *

**VI: Le Café Noir**

Xemnas stared at the phone. And then at the wall. And then at a particularly interesting piece of string dangling from the ceiling. And then out of the window. And then back at the phone.

Rinse and repeat.

Stopping his pacing, the teen gracefully flopped (in his utter and complete perfection, he alone could execute the phenomena known as gracefully flopping) onto his bed with a sigh, silver hair lying every which way. Turning his head, he stared hard at the speck of white on his desk.

The little piece of paper seemed so innocent. A milky pale in color, it was neatly folded, soft blue lines forming writing spaces across its surface. It was perfect. Unmarred. And yet so, so, evil. Because etched onto its smooth, neat surface was something. Something black. Something inky. And something distinctly numerical.

_And you call yourself a leader. Pfft. _

_No one asked for your opinion, thank you very much. _

You see, Xemnas Lorac was no ordinary teenager. He held all the cards. No one could say the word okay without his okay—he was the Head Honcho, Top Dog, Big Daddy, The Dude, Number One—the ultimate, un-denied, unopposed leader. The beginning and—to people who crossed him—the end. His fortress was impenetrable, impregnable, un-siezeable and un-seigeable. He was one they all answered to, the feared and revered King, the one who really held the reigns in Hollow Bastion High and in the surrounding town.

And here he was, bitching and _whining_ over a piece of folded loose-leaf. Like a fucking _girl_. Even worse, like fucking _Strife_. And all over a _guy._

That, beautiful, radiant, sapphire-haired boy who could play the guitar with the voice of an angel. The one with the ink stained hands, quiet demeanor, and love of astrology.

Saïx.

Xemnas wanted him.

Xemnas wanted him _bad_.

Wanted him to stand in one spot and not _move_ so he could admire his perfection for days upon eternities—wanted to hear his voice, soft and melodious with hidden power, singing for Xemnas and for nobody else—wanted to give him everything, show him everything that he could have if he just stayed by the older boy's side—wanted to undress him, slowly, kissing and licking at every inch of skin that was slowly revealed until they fell, feverish, onto his bed, frantically moving against each other until they—

Yes.

Well.

The _point_ was, Xemnas Lorac wanted Saïx Delune—ever since they had worked on that project together, he had wanted the boy with the unforgettable blue hair. And he could start the process of making him his—if he would only pick up the damn phone. And here, my friends, we come full circle.

It wasn't as though he didn't know how to charm a person. Really, he did. But Saïx was...like no one he'd ever come across before. He was _special_. His shyness was alluring, the way that he looked up at Xemnas with utter _compliance_ had made the older boy want to hold him and never let go.

Being who he was, Xemnas was used to seeing such a look on the faces of others. But Saïx hadn't looked at him like that out of fear, it was out of respect. Needless to say, when they had first started working together Xemnas had wanted nothing more than to shove the boy's head into a barrel and hold it there until he drowned—he had been _that_ much of an asshole. But over the course of their partnership, something had changed. They had gotten to know each other better, and the bluenette had gradually toned down until the relationship they had could almost be called amicable.

The closer they got to finishing, Xemnas found, the more he had seen a side of Saïx that he liked. A beautiful, softly polished facet in the gem that the boy was. And for once, the last thing that Xemnas wanted to do was take that beauty, tarnish it, and then throw it aside. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Xemnas could, just maybe..._maybe_, mind you, have a teensy, tiny _thing_ for Saïx. A thing that involved more than making stripping an Olympic sport.

But—

"Screw it! _Screw. It!_"

Darting off his bed, he grabbed that evil little piece of paper. His fingers made short work of the digits, pounding _goddamn it don't say pounding_ them out on him keypad.

One ring. Two—three—

"Hello?"

His heart stopped.

The boy's voice was so melodious, it had always been. It surrounded him, warmed him more than the heat of a thousand scarves and burrowed itself deep into his soul. It was smooth, not too high or too low, and flavored with a sprinkle of personality that was uniquely Saïx. He had fallen in love with it the minute that it touched his sinfully unworthy ears so many months ago, beautiful, _fairy-spun phrases spoken out of the lips of a forlorn, fallen angel... _

_Who the hell do you think you are?_ Forlorn, fallen angel? _Since when did you get a sex change and become Cloud fucking Strife?_

So caught up was he in his mental soliloquy about the lovely Saïx and his chastisement of his mental soliloquy about the lovely Saïx that he regrettably didn't notice said Saïx trying to get his attention.

"Excuse me, I'm hanging up—"

"Wait!" Xemnas shouted, feeling a sudden flush of embarrassment.

Pause. Then, "Who the hell is this? Wait—_Xemnas_?"

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his wits about him. He had attitude. He had style. He had _mojo_, damn it. Pride had been thrown out of the window. He was fucking _doing_ this.

"Hey. Yes, this is Xemnas. And I'd be very privileged if you'd let me take you out for coffee."

* * *

_Le Blanc et Noir_ was a quaint coffee shop in a small nook on the south side of town. Dimly lit, it radiated a serene kind of calm, emphasized by the beige walls with scrolling gold and crimson trimming. Each table was like a world of its own, separated by tasteful crimson curtains. In the winter, with the snow whirling outside and after journeying through the frozen world, it was the type of place one would go to sit with a book or a sketchpad and a cup of coffee. Which was why Xemnas, after much deliberation, decided to just ask Saïx here, to his favorite place in the world.

He had called and requested the table in the corner, and Miss Agnes, the lady who ran the place, was only too happy to reserve it for him. She had always treated Xemnas like a son - he would sometimes come just to keep the old woman company.

You know, not that he _cared_, or anything.

"This place is really nice," Saïx commented shyly as Kevin, Miss Agnes' grandson, showed him to Xemnas' table. The bluenette sat down in a flurry of cuteness and frost, and Xemnas watched with an almost creepy fascination as he removed his scarf and gloves. This, of course, was before he realized that Saïx was staring at Xemnas staring at Saïx. The boy flushed.

Silence, interrupted only by the knocking sound of Kevin placing two cups of coffee onto the wooden table, with a handful of creams and sugars.

"So," the bluenette started as he wrapped his freezing palms around the warm cup. "How exactly did you get my number?"

Xemnas, being a completely sentient creature with superior intelligence, registered the question with complete clarity, thank you very much. However, it was his conscious, entirely voluntary decision to answer a question with a question.

"You take your coffee black?"

Yeah, _whatever._

A soft smirk/smile formed on Saïx's lips, and Xemnas prayed he'd know the boy long enough to tell the difference. "_Oui, monsieur," _he whispered, and Xemnas almost came right then and there from the lilt of the foreign language on the boy's tongue, a tongue that he desperately wanted in six million other places right about...now. "_J'adore le café noir, je pense que l'amertume on régénère._"

At the dazed look on his companion's face, Saïx merely smiled, a small blush forming on his cheeks as he stirred the drink. "Sorry. I'm a bit of a French junkie. It slips out. Um...I can try to stop, if it bothers you—"

"No, it's alright. I think," he paused, but decided to take the plunge. "I think it's cute."

The blush darkened on the blue-haired boy's face, a pleased smile appearing for a quick second before he sipped his coffee, now completely calm "Thank you," he said, and Xemnas got the distinct impression that in that conversation, he'd just lost control. "Which brings us back to my question. How did you get my number?"

"I had it from the project." Xemnas said calmly, mentally patting himself on the back in approval. _Brilliant excuse, my friend._

"I changed it."

Xemnas mentally swore. There went his cover."Um, I looked it up?" he tried.

"It's my cell."

_But it's a 718! Seriously, what the fuck?_

Saïx was quietly laughing at him, his laugh melodic—it made Xemnas think of wind chimes and then promptly kick himself for thinking so. "Try again."

"Erm...I found it on the street?"

One dark eyebrow raised, and Xemnas was sharply reminded that despite his quietness, Saïx had bite. A lot of it. "So you make a habit of picking up random numbers and asking whoever answers for coffee? Once more, Xemnas."

The silver-haired teen sighed. He really didn't want to say this. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, he had been thinking about the bluenette when the idea had come to him, and he was now kicking himself for it. Seriously, couldn't he have found a more...normal way of getting a damn phone number?

"Um, I told the desk secretary that they were giving out free cupcakes in the cafeteria and then hacked into your file for your phone number. Happy?"

Saïx took another sip of his coffee, looking bemused and fighting off yet another blush. That was not a good sign. "So much trouble for coffee, Xemnas? I didn't think you were the type."

"Actually, I'm not."

Saïx put the cup down, all traces of redness disappearing. He appeared to be preparing himself for something, and Xemnas quickly grew nervous. Had he made Saïx angry?

_Seriously, you should dye your hair blonde and cross-dress if you're going to act this gay._

_Shut the fuck up._

"C-could I ask a question?" The bluenette's tone was soft, and almost hesitant.

"Of course."

"Why am I here? And, um, the truth would be appreciated, please."

Deft fingers added two creams and three sugars to a coffee cup and stirred, just to have something to do. There was silence for a while, the whistling sound of wind outside and the gentle clink of dishes being the only sounds that could be heard. Xemnas looked out of the window, taking the time to gather his thoughts as he gazed upon the darkening sky, at last putting his cup on its saucer.

"Saïx, I don't do this often," he said at last, squashing the voice inside his head that was telling him that this was a bad idea. "You're right. I'm not that type of person, I know I have a reputation."

_One that, after all of your hard work, you're about to destroy?_

_Didn't I just tell you to shut the fuck up?_

"But the thing is, I like you. A lot, even though you're only a junior. You're special." Xemnas took a minute to gather his thoughts, chancing a look at Saïx. The bluenette actually looked thoughtful instead of embarrassed, and a small flame of hope ignited itself in the older teen's chest. "Look," he continued, eager to make Saïx understand, "I know that the project has been over for a while, and I might know some things about you, but I don't know everything. But...I feel something for you that I haven't felt for a long time. A very long time," he said the last part to himself.

So there. He'd done it; he'd swallowed his goddamned pride and told Saïx how he felt. _So, what happens now?_

"Xemnas," the boy whispered. The silver-haired boy looked up, and was unpleasantly surprised to see a look of _fear_ on Saïx's face. "W-what do you want from me?"

"Saïx—" At that moment, Xemnas wanted nothing more than to take Saïx's hand, which was lying on the table. He hadn't been expecting the fear, and it saddened him. He hadn't seen it from Saïx since the beginning of the project they had done together—the bluenette looked so _terrified_—if only he could somehow get the willpower to move his hand _twelve inches_—

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"How do I know that?"

"Just...trust me—"

"_Damn it, what do you want from me?"_ Saïx suddenly screamed, his eyes wild. Glad for the fact that no one could see them, he jumped sharply at the sudden sound, alarmed. He had never seen Saïx like that. _Something is wrong with him. He was so calm earlier—something's wrong._

Without waiting for an answer, the bluenette hastily put on his scarf and gloves. "I'm sorry—I have to go—I've been out too late—"

"Saïx, wait!" Hastily, he grabbed Saïx's hand before he could wiggle out of the booth, his heart pounding. _Oh god, I hope I didn't scare him off—_

Breathing. Xemnas heard loud, hard, gasping breathing and vaguely wondered who was doing it before registering that it came from him. Across from him, Saïx looked transfixed, frozen in fright as he stared at their joined hands. "One date, Saïx. That's all I want. One date."

"That's all you want?" The bluenette questioned skeptically, calming down somewhat but still tense.

"Yes, that's all I want."

The angel's hand was still in his grasp, and Xemnas marveled at how firmly soft it was. Fingertips were hardened by guitar strings, but the palms were smooth and free of calluses, dotted with ink stains from quick writing. The backs of his hands were inky too, the outlines of veins visible in the pale skin. The fingers themselves were lean and elegant, the fingernails neatly cut. The whole hand radiated warmth from the blood that flowed within, and even when Saïx pulled away, Xemnas knew that he would get a chance to feel that hand again. Because a second later, Saïx gave a hesitant nod. "I'd—I'd like that. You have my number," a ghost of a smile flitted across his lips, "call me. But I really have to go now."

And Saïx left, disappearing into the moon-lit night.

Xemnas sat back down, knowing that he'd have to head home soon, but wanting to stay and mentally gloat. Cheerfully, he verbally abused his inner self as he flagged Kevin down and asked the waiter to bring him another cup of coffee.

"Cream and sugar as usual, Mr. Lorac?"

Xemnas almost nodded, but at the last minute changed his mind.

"Actually, Kevin...I think I'll take it black."

* * *

**End notes: **"_J'adore le café noir, je pense que l'amertume on régénère_" **means "I like the coffee black, I think that the bitterness regenerates."**


	8. VII: Identity Theft

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Cross-Dressing, Mild Language  
**

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: Okay, I have a lot to say about this chapter.**

**A LOT.**

**Firstly, in response to one of my reviews, "bluenette" is NOT a word. It's just easier to use than to keep saying "blue-haired boy" all the time.**

**Secondly, this chapter and the next (8) is going to be mainly Cloud-centric with a sprinkle of Saix, and then the chapter after that (9) will have a little of everyone in it, but will mostly be Roxas/Sora stuffies. Then the chapter after THAT (10) will have another Organization 13 couple. (I wonder who...-giggle-) Then, back to RxS. Riku might get a bit to himself, that's still being decided.  
**

**Thirdly, there is cross-dressing in this chapter. I've been really nervous about putting this up; I don't know how people will react to it. So PLEASE, review. I want to know how I did.**

**Fourthly, Tifa and Cloud's kiss is strictly platonic. They're just one of those best friend pairs that can kiss each other and know that it's a friendship thing and that there's no romantic feeling behind it. Tifa is seeing...well, I'll let you figure it out.  
**

**And yes, I know people will wonder, so I'm going to say it now: the dress that Cloud is wearing is Lulu's dress from Final Fantasy X. I burst out into laughter every time I imagine him in it.**

**Go figure.  
**

* * *

**VII: Identity Theft**

Skilled fingers pressed lightly on ivory piano keys, the sound embracing the air and filling the area with a fragile harmony. The space was dim and bathed in candlelight as the song went on; the shadows flickered and waned, as if directed by some unseen conductor. As the melody continued to release itself from the pages of the player's book, every feeling and every trembling thought was pressed into the player's hands. The instrument proudly rose to the summons, like some conquering, prideful beast, taking the sorrow and making it beautiful before releasing it upon the world. Each individual, quivering note was like a perfectly formed diamond, hanging in the air for a single second before shattering into a thousand pieces and leaving only faint echo to show it had ever been there.

The phone rang. Riku stopped playing.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"You—you called."

"I said I would, didn't I?"

Riku smiled, getting up to sit by the big glass window. "You haven't changed, Sora."

When the brunette spoke next, there was a sad note to his voice. "Yes, I have, Riku. A lot."

It was snowing again, the waning moon casting a faint glow of silver over the snowflakes. It made him feel slightly nostalgic, thinking of when they were younger. They used to play in the snow together, and life was a blur of marshmallows and presents and chocolate. _What changed, Sora? Between then and now, what changed?_

"Sora?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you remember that Christmas when we tried to feed Mrs. Hubbard's cat hot chocolate?"

A faint giggle. Riku knew the brunette was smiling. "Yeah, but it got marshmallows up its nose—"

"And then we shoved its head into a scalding bucket of water to wash them out—"

"And then it started yowling and you pulled on its tail—"

"And then it panicked and clawed your shirt in half."

Sora was laughing. It was a lovely sound. "Everything was so simple then."

Riku took a deep breath. "Who says it has to be complicated?"

There was silence on Sora's end for a while as the laughter died out, and Riku wondered if he'd hung up. Finally, he spoke. "Things are different now, Riku."

"Who says they have to be different?" he said defiantly.

"They just are. Things happen—"

"Sora, this isn't like you!" Riku finally yelled, all the pent up sadness and _want_ that had been languishing inside of him since the brunette left exploding. "You've only been back for a day, and I can already see it. You're not the same. You're quieter, you only talk to Roxas, you're not the cheerful and happy boy that brightened up my world. Sora...you've lost your fire."

Sniffles, and then he registered the sounds of Sora crying and Roxas' faint voice on the other line comforting the brunette. Suddenly, it was the blonde's rougher voice speaking. "I'm sorry, Riku, but Sora will have to call you back. He's not feeling very well."

"Roxas...what hurt him?"

The blonde sighed, not knowing whether to feel sorry for Riku or just plain annoyed, he sounded so lost. "Too many things, Riku. He'll tell you when he's ready."

"Can you tell him I said I'm sorry?"

"Will do. Goodbye, Riku."

Click.

* * *

"Cloud? Are you finished in there? We have to do your makeup!"

Cloud adjusted his outfit a final time, finally deeming himself satisfactory as he stepped out of the bathroom. His best friend Tifa was waiting for him outside, a tube of mascara in one hand and a black wig in the other. "Hurry up, he should be here any minute!"

Sighing in resignation, the blonde gingerly sat down on a stool and let her go to work, creams and pastes being applied and then tweaked as Tifa worked her magic. _At least this one is better than the frilly, lacy crap I had to wear last time,_ he thought grudgingly to himself, eyeing the number of belts that interlocked to form the front of the frock.

You see, there was a very good reason that Cloud was in a dress.

There was to be a banquet tonight, a lot of influential members of society were going to be there to gossip and gloat. Subsequently, my friends, being that his uncle owned a powerful energy company, Cloud's oh-so-darling boyfriend was required to attend. And displaying a loyalty to Cloud that was becoming a rarity these days, Cloud thought sadly, Reno had refused to go with anyone else.

"All done!" Tifa chirped, putting a stocking-cap over Cloud's spikes and fitting the wig on top of it. After a few whips of the comb, and she grabbed his hand and dragged him off the stool and to the full-length mirror.

He had to admit, he looked good. The dark hair of the wig was done in a high ponytail with a headband in the front. Tifa had managed to get fake C-cups from somewhere, which was a new addition to his ensembles, since the dress left his chest and shoulders bare and had an almost indecent neckline. With a strapless bra of Tifa's own, this created a rather nice effect, but Cloud did _not_ want to think about exactly _what_ he was wearing.

The robe portion that started at the sides and connected to the bodice came around to the back, and then tapered off to form a small train with designs along the bottom. The front was made of a series of belts locked together, starting where the bodice ended. The belting started lower on one side than on the other.

Underneath the dress, Cloud had worn as much battle gear as he could manage. He had a feeling that something bad was going to happen tonight, and his random bouts of intuition were usually correct. Tifa had agreed, and had lent him a leather, strapless halter top and a pair of her own leather shorts that fit his thin figure disturbingly well.

This served the dual purpose of hiding the strip of thigh that the gap between belting and bodice on one side showed—no amount of begging, pleading, and sheer _whining_ that Tifa could do would convince him to show off his legs. His own fighting gloves and a small switchblade were concealed within the folds of the robe.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he sighed, sucked it up and turned around. Even though he wasn't happy with Reno for asking this of him, _again_, he was grateful to Tifa for at least making it bearable. He hugged the girl tightly, and she giggled.

"Do you like it? I tried to find something you wouldn't mind wearing..."

"You've outdone yourself this time. Thanks—"

"Excuse me, but I didn't quite catch that. What did you say?"

He gave an aggravated sigh but complied with what he knew she wanted. When he next spoke, his voice was a soft falsetto. "Thank you, Tifa."

"You're welcome, _Claudette. _Time to put on your shoes!"

Cloud had been happy to know that the three-inch-high stilettos had been discarded in favor of leather, knee-high black boots when he had told her about his bad feelings regarding tonight. Both of them had wanted something that Cloud could run, jump, and kick in, and those heels were murderous, anyway. _At least these are comfortable_, he thought to himself as he zipped them up.

Outfit complete, he stood up to walk over by the window, feeling thoroughly depressed.

_I don't even know if I should keep doing this for Reno. I mean, is he so ashamed of what we have that he doesn't want to be seen with me around his family and friends as Cloud? This isn't fair at all—why do I have to lose out to some girl that doesn't exist? _

Small arms found their way around his waist as Tifa hugged him from behind, sensing his mood. "_Senpai,_ are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just...thinking, is all."

"Cloud, I don't think this is healthy," she said softly. "You're killing yourself trying to do what Reno wants—"

"Tifa, I'm dating him. It's sorta what you do."

"Not like this!" He turned around and was surprised to see her eyes brimming with tears. "You're so quiet all the time! I know you've never been a talker but now you don't talk at all! You've stopped eating as much as you should, you can't concentrate in class—and don't try to deny it, I've seen you! And I know that what people have been saying about you is bothering you!"

Cloud winced. He hadn't wanted to think about _that_.

Due to his boyfriend's loose tongue while under the influence, he had bragged to his friends about how his sweet Cloud was getting "all dolled up" for him so that he could take a certain Miss Claudette Storm to his Uncle Rufus' formal events. Now, the whole senior class knew about his cross-dressing escapades. Some of them in powerful families had even attended some of the events but hadn't known it was Cloud until Reno had opened his mouth. At the last party, someone had even taken pictures of him and posted them on the school site—he'd taken the risk of getting suspended by wearing hoodies to school for two weeks after that.

"Tifa, it's just a few rumors—"

"It's MORE than that, Cloud—he's hurting my best friend just because he's not man enough to strap on a pair and admit to people outside of school that he's seeing a guy! I'm so sick and tired of this _Claudette _business and of people looking down on you because Reno likes to take advantage and can't hold his liquor!"

"Tifa, Reno's just...look, he doesn't mean to do it, okay? He does love me, he says so. And I'm fine, it's not like he hits me or anything. See? No damage."

"Cloud." Tifa's voice was a dead monotone. "He has you in a dress. If that's not damage, I don't know what is."

"Tifa—"

"You know what, Cloud? I don't even want to talk about this anymore. I just want to know," she reached out and took his hand, "When you'll stop giving everything to Reno and take some for yourself. Just think about that, okay?"

A cell phone rang, both of them recognizing the special ringtone. "Listen, Rude's here. I gotta go. At least try to have fun tonight,_Kuraudo_."

Smiling at the use of his Japanese name, he caught her and kissed her quickly, trying to tell her how much he appreciated and loved her without words. Tenderly adjusting his ponytail, she opened the front door and gave a deep scowl when she saw the redhead standing there. Pushing past him, she made her way out to Rude's car, slamming the door. With a roar and a cloud of exhaust, they were gone.

"What's her issue, yo?" Reno said, staring after them.

"I don't know."

"Hmm." Reno stepped onto the threshold, closing the door behind him and taking Cloud's hand. "You look good tonight, Cloud."

"I-I do?"

The redhead laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers of arousal through Cloud's body. Even after a year or being together, Reno still had that effect on him. "Of course you do, you always do."

_See, Tifa? _he thought as the redhead kissed him, putting a strong arm around his waist.

_Reno loves me. He's not taking advantage...right?_

* * *

Roxas laid beside his love, ghosting kisses on the boy's neck, a comforting arm draped across the boy's waist as Sora stared blankly up at the ceiling. The moon illuminated the brunette's face, and his skin seemed alight with an ethereal glow—Roxas couldn't understand how someone could have been so hurt and still be so beautiful. Sora hadn't said anything since Riku's call, crying for a minute or so before abruptly stopping and going silent. He had let Roxas touch him without any resistance, and the blonde tried to keep his ministrations loving instead of suggestive.

"I hate him."

"Hate who, love?"

"Yashiro." Sora couldn't muster the respect to call him father anymore. "He's hurting 'kaa-san. I hate him."

"I hate him too, kitten."

There was quiet for a little while. Roxas tasted the skin of his lover and friend, rediscovering the smells and textures that were identical to his own. Sora let him, relishing in the feel of it while his mind worked, debating on how to ask a question.

"Why does everyone kill the ones that love them, Roxas?"

Roxas gave him a final kiss and then lay still, worried about Sora' question. "Who are you talking about, love?"

"I don't want to say. Why do they do it, Roxas?"

"Sora..." Reverently, Roxas caressed the smaller boy's cheek. "It's because love is something that is freely given. It is not an obligation, so whoever wants to use it cannot be condemned for taking it and twisting it for their own purposes—_because_ it was freely given. It was not something demanded of the giver, they just couldn't help but to give it. Do you understand?"

"I do. Thank you for being honest with me." Sora drew up the covers over them both. "Goodnight, Roxas."

"Good night, Sora."

About 15 miles away from where the twins slept, all hell broke loose.


	9. VIII: Broken Glass

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Cross-Dressing, Language**

**Pairing: Roxas x Sora **

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: Okay, it happens in this chapter! I was so nervous about putting this up, I don't know if I wrote the action scene right, or if Cloud is too OOC, or whatever. In a way, Cloud is OOC from what I've already written him as - quiet, shy, etc. But his behavior will be explained in Chapter 10.**

**Anyway, the fight between Cloud and -blank- is mostly taken from Tifa's fight with Loz in Advent Children, with only a few minor changes, if that makes it easier to envision. Please, please, _please_ review this chapter. I spent forever working on it, worrying about the wording, or about the characterization, and about the action, since this is the first action scene I have ever written. And I mean _ever._ My beta says that she likes it, and I believe her, but it would be nice to see what your guys think.**

**Enjoy, my lovelies. **

**Enjoy.  
**

* * *

**VIII: Broken Glass**

"Presenting Master Reno Sinclair and Mistress Claudette Storm..."

Smile. Step. Flash. Flash. Smile. Flash. Step. Flash. Step. Flash. Flash. Smile...

Of the entire irritating process, the part that Cloud absolutely couldn't _stand_ was the introduction. Cameras were going off everywhere, and shortly the two of them would have to make rounds around the room for stilted introductions, stiff hugging, and boast-filled catch-up.

_And veiled insults. Can't forget those double entendres, now can we?_

Reno gave him a tiny shake. "Focus, Claudette," he whispered.

_Seriously, I want to know who the fuck came up with that horrible name—_

"And this is my girlfriend, Claudette," Reno was saying, snapping Cloud out of his daze. The woman was giving him a slow once-over, and he tried his best not to feel nervous. _You've done this before. Get a grip. _

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Brooks," he said in falsetto.

"Likewise, Miss Storm. You know, the other day I was telling Reno..."

If you had asked Cloud to name three things that had been said to him within the space of that torturous half hour, he couldn't do it—although he was sure he'd heard the word marriage mentioned two or twelve times. He'd responded with the customary giggle and blush—after the initial jitters, he didn't even need to pay attention to what he was doing. You simply had to keep your appearances up, which after five or six events spent at Reno's side he was pretty good at.

It was like giving candy to a baby—all of these people were the same, all wanting to be the best and all wanting to rub it in everyone's faces while doing it. Giving them what they craved most, that feeling of topping everyone else, was all that was needed to survive at these things. But, as always in the silly little games we play, there could only be one number one—and Cloud slowly came back to Earth as they approached him.

Rufus Shinra was the only person of drinking age in the room that knew that "Claudette" was a guy. There wasn't much that you could hide from him, and he only needed to take one look at his nephew's date to know the truth. He didn't seem to mind, though, and always asked Cloud to sit by him for a time or for a dance.

"Konnichiwa, uncle." Reno bowed politely to his uncle, and Cloud followed suit.

"Konnichiwa, Mr. Shinra."

"Reno, Claudette. I am so glad that you could make it. Claudette, please, sit with me—why don't you go mingle for a while, nephew?"

"Whatever, yo," the redhead shrugged, walking off.

Cloud gingerly approached the man and sat down. He knew that underneath all of the power and intrigue that the man held Rufus was a nice guy, but he had always expected to be thrown out on his ass. Maybe it was just him being paranoid—he was dating the man's nephew, after all. He was pretty sure that gave him some small measure of safety, right? But the feeling wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried. Maybe it was because he was lying to everyone, or because he wasn't good enough for Reno, or because he wasn't important enough to even _be_ at the man's parties. Or all of the above.

That first time he had met Rufus, his hands wouldn't stop quaking as Reno brought him for his uncle's inspection—he knew all about the powerful leader of Shinra Company, and he had been nervous as hell. That had also been his first time cross-dressing, in a dark blue gown that Tifa had managed to stuff him into. But as the night wore on, he found that there was no way Rufus would kick him out—it just wasn't the older man's style. In fact, the blonde had been warm to him, dancing several songs with Cloud which was more than he could say for Reno, who had been, as usual, getting drunk.

With those aqua eyes that could change from the coldness of a glacier to the calm of the sea in seconds, the young executive had won Cloud's friendship that night, kissing the boy's cheek as he left. "It was nice talking to you, Cloud Strife," he had whispered, and smirked as the younger man froze.

Now, those same cerulean eyes were looking at him in interest. "Hello, Claudette. Are you enjoying the party?" _I hope that this isn't too hard on you._

Cloud clearly heard what Rufus had really said, and responded in kind. "I am having a fair time, Mr. Shinra, as always." _I'll deal with it, I've done this before._

"Are you thirsty? Has my nephew brought you anything to drink?" _Are you feeling alright? Has Reno been treating you well?_

"I haven't really decided whether I'm thirsty or not yet, Mr. Shinra. Too much excitement to think about taking anything, to be honest." _At this point, things are a bit iffy with Reno and I. A lot of stuff has been happening, I haven't had the time to sit down and actually think things through._

"Well, maybe a spin on the dance floor would work up an appetite, no?" _Yes, you do look a bit down. Dance with me. It'll cheer you up a bit._

The older blonde stood up and offered Cloud his hand, which he gratefully took.

"I'd like that."

* * *

"Good evening, sir," the hotel receptionist said, smiling benignly at the cloaked man who had just come in. "Are you looking to rent a room?" 

"No, thank you. Could you point me to the ballroom?"

"Sure, it's down the hall, down the stairs, and to your left, sir. You can't miss it."

"Thank you."

Heavy leather boots made tramping noises on the stairs as he walked. He knew that his brothers were near; he could feel their presence following him—ready to act if they were needed. He was hoping they weren't.

There was a man standing at the door to the hall with a clipboard, who smiled at him as he approached. "Good evening, sir. May I see your invita—"

Loz put his hands on the man's neck and twisted.

For a long time, he had been under suspicion. They said that he was too much of a baby, that he wasn't aggressive enough and screwed up all his missions—Nii-san hadn't been too happy about his performance. Seeing Kadaj stagger out of Nii-san's room, bloodied and bruised, and knowing that it was all his fault made some part deep, deep inside of him hurt. His brothers were all he had, and he was letting them down—and Kadaj was paying for it.

Well, Nii-san had had enough with him. His orders for tonight were simple—get the girl and get out. If he passed, all would be well. If he failed...

No. Failure was not an option. He could _not_ screw this up.

He managed to find a utility closet to stash the body in, and then prepared to enter. Above him, he heard the whisper of a slipstream as dual shadows left him, making their way to the roof. Taking a deep breath, he slipped inside, immediately spotting the little girl playing with a doll on the edge of the dance floor.

_Let's go._

* * *

"Rufus, did you hear that?" 

"Hear what?" Rufus gave a slight frown at the disguised boy.

"It sounded like someone screamed...but cut off..."

His frown deepening, the older blonde listened hard. There was nothing but the chatter of the guests, the clink of glasses and the music playing to be heard. He glanced at the boy next to him—maybe Cloud was hearing things? "Claudette, I think you're just—"

And then, he caught it.

"HELP—"

"Shut _UP_, little girl—"

Cloud set his drink down, the feeling of foreboding that had been growing as the night wore on suddenly exploding into full-blown dread. _Whatever's going to happen tonight, it's going to happen now. _"I heard it again."

The president looked like his usual impassive self, but Cloud could see the growing worry in the man's eyes. "I did too—and I can't see Scarlet anywhere."

"Your little sister?"

He never got an answer as another yell came from the corner, only it sounded much more masculine. Scarlet's small voice, panic-stricken but with a hint of pride, could be heard with the sounds of struggling.

"You let me go!"

"OUCH—you bit me, you little bitch—"

With every noise, the feeling of dread worsened. "Rufus, he's hurting her!"

Rufus didn't answer as he signaled his bodyguards to investigate. "Stay here, Claudette, I don't want you getting hurt—" he started as he turned to the teen.

But Cloud was already gone.

* * *

Loz was having problems. Not, of course, that someone of his stature and acute intelligence couldn't handle a little trouble. He just didn't expect the girl to be such a kicking, squalling _brat_—the little bitch had _bitten_ him, for fuck's sake! 

_I swear to fucking GOD that I'm going to fucking kill this kid—_

He had almost succeeded in setting up the syringe with the sedative when he heard the telltale _click_ of multiple guns being cocked.

_Shit!_

"YOU! Unhand that girl now!"

The man was obviously Wutainese, his hair was long and straight, and he spoke with an air of one who had seen danger and knew it well. The other one, a short blonde woman, held her weapon steadily, not batting an eye. Sizing them up, he could tell they were no newbies at their job.

"What if I don't want to?" He replied, snapping his tazer handle to his hand and placing it to the girl's neck.

Scarlet froze.

"Drop your weapons."

The guns fell to the ground, and Loz inwardly smiled—as long as he had his weapon to Scarlet's neck, they wouldn't do anything. Slowly backing away and dragging the girl with him, he failed to notice the presence running up behind him until it kicked him in the head...

* * *

Softly cursing, Cloud managed to get past the crowd surrounding the dance floor to the opposite corner of the room. Quickly, he tugged his gloves on, deciding to leave the switchblade alone for now. 

_I swear to god I'm going to kick Reno's ass for making me have to do this shit in the first place..._

There was a dual _click_ sound, and Cloud saw Elena and Tseng, two of Rufus' guards, pointing their guns at the intruder's head. He took a moment to size up his opponent. _He seems pretty muscular...I'd better not get in too close of range. _

Another _click_ of metal, and little Scarlet Shinra found herself with a weapon at her neck and her protectors unable to help her. He watched the little girl tremble, tears forming in her big, blue eyes, and Cloud knew it was time to go. Adjusting his gloves, he ran at full speed towards the silver-haired man and his foot connected with that head of silver hair...

* * *

"What the _fuck_ does he think he's doing?" A shadow hissed as it crouched upon reinforced glass, watching the battle taking place below. "His mission was to get Scarlet Shinra and then get out! And that girl is kicking his ass!" 

"Nii-san isn't going to be happy about this, Kadaj," the other shadow whispered in return.

"Who says he has to know?" Kadaj held up the round, black object that was sitting in his palm. "We've got this, don't we?"

"Don't be foolish, brother," Yazoo said, adjusting his position to see better. "There are cameras in there. People are undoubtedly videotaping this event, and I wouldn't put it past a single soul _not_ to send the footage straight to the paparazzi. Nii-san will find out eventually. Plus, it'll be even bigger a story if we use _that_. Honestly, I don't know who I feel sorrier for—Loz or you."

"Thanks for the boost in self-confidence, _brother_," Kadaj spat. "I feel _eons _better now."

"Don't snipe at the one who's going to be patching you up when all of this is over."

The shorter one shot a bitter glare towards his brother and both of them turned their attention to the third of their trio, hoping that everything would turn out alright.

* * *

"Fuck!" Cloud hissed as the tazer caught him in the cheek, the sheer power behind the blast sending him into a backwards roll and sliding onto the marble floor. The man gave a sinister laugh, sliding his weapon back into place. 

He had long since abandoned the constraining dress, and it lay in a crumpled heap against a wall. His cheeks had burned as he had straightened the leather underneath, feeling like a rent boy in the strapless halter top. His attention, however, was quickly distracted by the balls of electricity that his opponent was attacking him with, and he hissed as the sparks burned his arm.

The thing about fighting this man, Cloud noticed as he made a rebound on one of the pillars and kicked his opponent in the face, was keeping him on the defensive. The silver-haired man was fast, and was able to utilize his brute strength, but he was useless when it came to kamikaze attacks. Cloud was actually grateful for the sponge-like material that he was currently passing off as breasts as the man kicked him hard in the chest—they absorbed most of the blow and Cloud was able to stay on his feet. Tensing as the tazer made a dent in the wall directly above his head, he slapped the arm away and jumped onto the man's chest, leaping into the air and slamming his opponent into the floor. _Yes!_

He was positioning himself to land in a front flip when he suddenly felt a hand grab his leg.

_Oh, shit._

* * *

Reno wasn't quite sure how it had happened. One minute, he had been chatting it up with a pretty redhead, pleasantly buzzed, and the next his "girlfriend" was fighting with some silver-haired guy that he was pretty sure was _not_ invited. 

_And...what the hell is Cloud wearing..._

He felt himself becoming increasingly worried as the two battled it out. While he was impressed with Cloud—he didn't know that his boyfriend could fight like that—the other man had delivered a few hard hits on him. He could see the other guests watching in shock, confusion and slight awe as "Claudette" managed to use her opponent's chest as a spring board and slam the guy into the floor. Camera flashes were going off everywhere—and suddenly the man had gotten hold of his boyfriend's leg.

_This isn't going to end well, is it?_

* * *

Pain blossomed in Cloud's skull as the man slammed his forehead into a chair while swinging him around. The world was a blur of color and he could feel the little he had eaten threatening to come up when his opponent suddenly let go. He went flying, managing to land neatly on the wall, bracing himself on one leg with the other stretched out. His slipstream destroyed the flowers from the huge arrangements below him, the silken petals fluttering every which way and obscuring his vision. From his position, he could make out the shocked faces of the guests and his opponent's bewildered expression through the petal rain and smirking, he prepared himself for a jump. 

_Now, I'm going to kick your ass..._

* * *

Kadaj and Yazoo gave each other incredulous looks as the fight ended. Not so much at the fact that their brother was currently buried under a pile of broken tables, no ma'am. Sure, they were upset and concerned and whatnot, but they couldn't help but stare at the figure that was currently brushing him...her...it? Yes, _it _would work. They couldn't help but stare at the figure that was brushing _itself_ off in the middle of the ballroom. 

"You—you mean to tell me that our brother just got beat up by a—"

"Kadaj, just drop the bomb."

"But—but that's a—"

"_Drop the goddamn bomb."_

* * *

Cloud managed to land cleanly on one knee, breathing hard, head bent. Behind him, the broken tables that his opponent was currently lying in emitted clouds of dust, the small motes rising from the wreckage and swirling into the air. Standing up, he spotted Scarlet clinging onto her brother's arm, still shaken but fine. 

Rufus, however, was shooting Cloud a look that made him very nervous.

As he brushed himself off, he became aware of a few things. One, he was standing in the middle of the most influential people in Hollow Bastion wearing a strapless halter top and short shorts. Two, there were looks of mixed shock and disgust on the faces of the guests and cameras were flashing like mad. Three, his boyfriend was frantically gesturing towards his head, and a sickening dread crept its way through Cloud's body.

_Oh, damn._

Slowly, he raised his hand and passed it through his hair. His blonde, spiky, distinctly _male_ hair.

_The wig had come off._

The sound of wood hitting marble sounded behind him as his opponent dragged himself from the pile of rubble. Deciding to worry about his current dilemma later, he got into a fighting stance for round two when suddenly, the ballroom doors burst open. A shout of "FREEZE!" echoed through the large room, two men pointing their large guns at the silver-haired man.

_Finally,_ hotel security had arrived. _Take your damn time, why don't you? _Cloud thought bitterly as Rufus snapped out of his daze and went to go talk to them.

Then, out of nowhere, there was the shattering sound of breaking glass, and something black fell from the sky.

The last thing Cloud saw was white.


	10. IX: Stranger

**Watercolor **

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13/R**

**Chapter Warnings: Language**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Sa****ïx**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix and Disney. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot and to the characters Isabella and Yashiro Akiyama.  
**

**A/N: ...wow. I am positively wowed by the response to last chapter. Honestly, I didn't think the fight sequence was that good - when I did Live Preview, it looked rather crappy, actually.**

**Anyway, this chapter is pretty much split between Cloud and Saïx. It's pretty short, only because it's laying foundation for next chapter. But a VERY important part of ****Saïx's story is disclosed in this chapter, along with the reason as to why he left so quickly in Le Cafe Noir. Next chapter is, again, Cloud-centric with some Roxas/Sora thrown in (those poor, poor puppies), and then in chapter 11 it's back to school POV again! Kairi plays dirty, Riku's story _really_ starts, and the only crack-esque main pairing in this story is introduced.**

**Don't forget to review! **

**Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to gothatheartholo for her (I'm pretty sure it's a female, please tell me if I'm wrong) numerous reviews, encouragement, and for being the only person that bothered to comment on the LJ blog that I write about all my fanfiction. It was a major spirit booster, trust me. And don't worry, honey.**

**You aren't being stalkerish at all.**

* * *

** IX: Stranger**

When he awoke, it was still dark. The stars shone brightly, their glow cheery and inviting, making the only light in the pitch-black room. He was in a warm, soft bed, the pillow emitting an unfamiliar but alluring scent that beckoned him back to sleep. Resisting the urge, he struggled to sit up, attempting to discern where he was.

As he came further into consciousness, his pains and aches made themselves known—there was a throbbing sensation in his arms and legs, and his stomach felt like it was on fire, a feeling that increased the more he tried to sit up. With a weak moan, he flopped back down.

"So you're awake," came a voice in the darkness.

Cloud jumped at the unexpected sound, groaning as his stomach sharply protested the movement. There was the small scrape of a chair, and then he felt a hand slide under his shirt as the bed dipped.

"Just WHAT do you think you're doing?"

Panicking, he attempted to scramble away, but another hand pinned him to the bed. He was trapped. "Please, hold still—"

"Get _off_ me!"

"I'm not going to...do anything indecent to you. I'm just checking your injuries."

"How do I know that?" He all but screamed, panting hard. "I don't know anything about you!"

"Please. You have my word."

Sighing, Cloud contemplated his situation. On one hand, he was in pitch darkness, pinned to some stranger's bed, injured and with no clue where he was. He had no information on this man—the guy could be a rapist, or a pedophile, or a drug lord. Or a serial killer. He couldn't even see his face. On the other hand, he heard sincerity in the soft but deep voice. The man's hands were gentle yet firm, and it would be impossible to run anyway.

But that didn't mean he had to like it. "Fine."

Immediately, the hand holding him steady released him and joined its counterpart in poking and prodding at Cloud's stomach. The guy's knuckles brushed the black lace bra, and Cloud was uncomfortably reminded that he was still wearing fake boobs. Luckily, the man didn't comment and went back to his exploration, pulling the blonde's shirt down and beginning to feel Cloud's arms and legs. Twinges of new pain were erupting in the teen's body, and he whimpered, trying to shy away from the inquisitive touch.

Noting his discomfort, the man stopped. "That's enough for now."

He got off the bed, and Cloud didn't understand why he suddenly felt so cold. "Where...am I?"

"You're at my house," the man answered, facing the window with his hands clasped behind his back. "It's on the outer edges of Hollow Bastion."

"What happened? How did I get here?"

"What do you remember?"

"Not much. I—" He struggled to gather the bits and pieces of the memory. "I remember the security people coming in. And then...there was this loud noise, like something broke, and then another noise, louder than the first. And then everything went white. That's all I remember."

"Hmm."

There was quiet for a bit as the man gathered his thoughts, and then he spoke. "I brought you here," he began. "After security arrived, someone broke through the glass panels on the roof and dropped a flash bomb on the ballroom. Apparently, some of the man's comrades were up there. You got the cuts on your arms and legs from the glass, some of the shards hit you. Anyway, the bomb detonated and blinded everyone for a few minutes, but by the time everything cleared, the man was gone. It is suspected that he had a pair of goggles, because he seemed unaffected by the light and was able to see well enough to tazer you in the stomach and toss you across the room before leaving."

Cloud processed all of this. "So...where do you come in?"

"You were thrown very near to where I had secluded myself for protection. I saw what happened during the fight; I knew that after what had happened was sorted out people would remember. You were hurt, and I could tell that you didn't need the extra attention. So in the confusion of the aftermath, I slipped out and brought you here."

"And you healed me?"

"Yes. I wouldn't have taken you if I couldn't help you."

"Help me? Are you a doctor or something?"

"Yes."

Feeling much better about where he was, he stared at the man's silhouette, gratitude welling up inside of him. "...thank you."

The figure nodded. "It is late. You will sleep."

The silhouette moved from its spot, and then practiced hands tucked the covers around him. On an impulse, he grabbed the hand nearest to him. Immediately—it happened so quickly that he almost didn't recognize it at first—he felt a familiar reaction that scared the hell out of him—hot chills ran down his spine. His fingertips tingled, and his hand felt unusually warm. _What the hell..._

"...what are you doing?"

"Um..."

Guiltily, he let the man go, embarrassed. "Sorry. I just wanted to know...nothing."

Awkward silence. Cloud fumbled for something to say, glad that his companion couldn't see his cheeks burning in the darkness. A question surfaced in his mind. "Hey, what's your name?"

Quiet, and then he heard footsteps move away from the bed and a door open. _Smart move, Strife, now he won't talk at all! _

Resigning himself to not getting an answer, he settled himself down to sleep when he heard it, just before the door closed.

"My name is Vincent."

* * *

He didn't know what time it was. The room was bathed in pitch-blackness, the hot scent of blood making him queasy. His memories were fragmented, only bits and pieces of what had happened coming when he called, and what he remembered was a haze of scarlet and screams. The chain on his left arm rattled as he moved the shaking appendage, trying to get comfortable on the unforgiving stone floor.

Tramping sounds on the basement staircase, and then the lights came on. Saïx shied away from their intensity, bringing his hand to shield his eyes as the angry face of his brother was revealed.

"Good, you're awake."

He strained to sit up, every fiber in his body violently expressing their disapproval of his actions. "Zex—Zexion..."

"I hope you've learned your lesson, Saïx," the older man said coolly, staring at his younger brother in distaste. "I _told _you to be home at a certain time."

"Zexi—"

"_Don't," _he started dangerously, "call me that. Or shall I remind you who is the reason that you're not in foster care?"

Saïx tensed.

"That's what I thought. So," he said pleasantly, strolling around the room at an almost leisurely pace, "Where were you, anyway?"

"I—I was with a friend. Gomen nasai, nii-san."

"_Just a_ friend?"

"Yes, just a friend." A bit of ire rose in the younger one then, and he fought to keep the bite out of his voice. Zexion stared at him, unblinking, and he avoided his brother's gaze, not wanting him to see the truth. _But...isn't it the truth? Xemnas is just a friend to me...isn't he?_

At last, the man nodded. "Fine." A silver key glinted in the light. "You know the rules of this household. Do _not_ disobey me again."

"Yes, Zexion."

Saïx rubbed his chafed wrist, weakly dragging himself off the basement floor. Struggling to walk, he managed to stumble his way past his smirking brother and upstairs into the shower. It was only after the spray was running, loud and pounding against his body, did Saïx allow himself to let go.

"Weak, imbecilic, bitch-ass motherfucking cunt! I fucking hate you, you bastard! Mother...why'd you have to di.e..." he screamed. His fist made contact with the tiles over and over again, tears blinding his vision as he sobbed, for once not caring if his brother heard.

The water was pink as it swirled down the drain, his bleeding knuckles throbbing. The sharp droplets stung his cuts and bruises, and slowly he managed to soap and rinse off, wincing the entire time. He held himself tightly long after his fingers had gone pruny and the water had lost its heat, sitting in a ball in a corner of the bathtub, tears squeezing themselves from his closed eyes and making trails down his cheeks.

He missed her.

Regina Delune was the gentlest, kindest woman that had ever existed. Her smile was always warm, her arms always strong, and she always smelled of cookies and sweet perfume. She was always home when her children came from school, ready to hear about her blue-haired boys' day. She never raised her voice, never avoided a question, and never lied to them—always holding them tightly and rocking them to sleep when the truth was too much for them to bear. Saïx would never forget the way her silver hair glinted under the sun, the way she laughed, like wind chimes, and the way she had lain on that street, blood dripping from her hands as she ceased to breathe.

It had happened on a rainy October afternoon.

Zexion had been 20 then, Saïx only 14. The younger boy had been lying, feverish, in a bed in the nurse's office and both Mr. and Mrs. Delune had been on their way to get them. Everything had been going fine, Mr. Delune was a safe driver, and they had been nearing the school building. And then...

Sniffling, Saïx turned the water off and stepped out of the cold shower. He wrapped himself in a towel, making his way to his room and slipping beneath the sheets, wishing that his parents weren't gone, wishing that his brother didn't hate him, wishing that everything was okay.

Eventually, it was only the thought of a silver-haired boy that put Saïx to sleep.


	11. X: A Modern Myth

**Watercolor **

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Language**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Sa****ïx**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: Bon soir, my lovelies! I apologize for the wait, I had to take my Biology Regents and I wasn't feeling very hot the past few days. But, I am back! And I must say, I missed you all.  
**

**This will probably be the last mostly Cloud!centric chapter for a while, although the Sora/Roxas plotline makes an appearance in this chapter. The next chapter will be a blend of a lot of different characters along with the introduction (finally!) of the last two main pairings. And then in chapter 12...we get to see the results of the ballroom catastrophe - from the other side. So, stay tuned, and I hope you enjoy. Do review, I was very anxious about keeping Vincent in character in this chapter and I'm depending on you guys to tell me how I did, ne?**

* * *

**X: A Modern Myth**

Cloud awoke to the smell of pancakes and the sound of rain. Gingerly sitting up, he was pleasantly surprised by the lack of intense pain in his stomach and limbs. He felt filthy, though, still in Tifa's clothing and _still_ wearing those horrible boobs. On the chair next to the bed, however, was a pair of jeans and a sweater, a toothbrush and a bar of soap.

_Wow,_ he thought, _this Vincent guy thinks of everything._

Eventually, he managed to stand on shaky legs and find a bathroom. He took great pleasure in throwing the fake implements into the trash can, and folded the rest of Tifa's clothing neatly. The water was warm, and the clothing comfortable, even though he all but swam in the older man's garments. Rolling up the jean cuffs so that he wouldn't trip, he followed the delicious scents and found his host sitting down to eat. The man's gaze focused on him as he entered, and he was mesmerized by the interesting shade of crimson that they were. He had never seen eyes like that before...

"Good morning."

Cloud jumped, so caught up in staring that his host's voice scared him. Cheeks flushed, he responded. "M-morning."

"Please, sit down."

Bare feet padding on the linoleum floor, Cloud sat. The blueberry pancakes looked good, and he happily munched his way through two of them before realizing that the man was staring at him. Another blush blossomed on his face, and he stayed perfectly still, nervous.

"What is your name?"

"Cloud Strife, sir."

"Cloud..." the man mused, and the blonde couldn't suppress the shivers that once again went through him from hearing his name on Vincent's tongue. _What the hell is going on here?_

"Cloud, please, if you do not mind...may I inquire as to why you continue to...don the clothing of the opposite sex?"

_Well, he's nothing if not blunt,_ Cloud thought wryly. Running the man's sentence again through his mind, a word caught his attention. "Continue? But...you don't know me."

"I have seen you before." Vincent took both their plates and stood, putting them in the sink and then running water over them before sitting back down. "I attended a charity benefit when I came back to Hollow Bastion about a month ago, and I clearly recall a Miss Claudette Storm attending. You were wearing a red dress, I presume?"

There was a hint of laughter in Vincent's voice, and Cloud suppressed a groan. "Yes, that was me."

"Which brings me back to my question."

The blonde fidgeted, not wanting to answer the question but knowing that his host had a right to know. The man had saved him, after all. "I—I do it for Reno," he began. "He's Rufus' nephew, and he needs a date for these things, so...I go with him."

"Hmm. And is there any reason _why_ he cannot take you as yourself or find someone of the female orientation to go with?"

"I...no one outside of school knows that we date, and I guess he didn't want to hurt my feelings by taking someone else."

Vincent didn't say anything for a few minutes, pondering what Cloud had told him. The boy seemed polite and happy enough, but he couldn't get the discomfort and slight hurt in the teenager's eyes out of his mind. Ever since he had first seen "Claudette", he had known that there was something off about her, and to find out that it was a boy wearing girl's clothing to please his boyfriend...that just wasn't _normal_.

"Has Mr. Sinclair considered the fact that this charade is hurting you anyway?"

There was a glimmer of knowing in those scarlet eyes that Cloud _really_ didn't like, and suddenly he felt very, very angry. Vincent didn't even _know_ him! "Why does _everyone_ keep saying bad things about Reno?" he yelled, standing up. "He hasn't done anything wrong! I'm perfectly fine, and I agreed to doing it, so just _shut up_, okay?"

Vincent raised an eyebrow.

Cloud sat back down, feeling like a complete idiot.

"...sorry."

"Hmm."

Silence.

Tactfully, Vincent changed the subject, Cloud's little outburst confirming a few things in the brunette's mind. "I noticed that you said Rufus' name rather easily."

"Yeah. He knew about...what was going on, and he never said anything mean about it. He's really kind."

This was something Vincent would have to agree with. "Indeed. Every time I return to this town, he has never failed to seek me out. His choice in employees is...questionable, but he is an upstanding man."

"Return? You live here?"

"This is my primary place of residence, yes."

"But I've never see you before."

"Hollow Bastion is a big city, you know."

"I have taken a Geography class, thank you very much," Cloud said dryly. "But my family has lived here for ages. We know pretty much everyone."

Vincent gazed at him steadily. "I am a neurosurgeon. My work takes me everywhere."

"Oh."

"Well, we have dallied long enough. You should be getting home, you are missing school as we speak." Standing up, the man reached for the phone on the kitchen counter. "Who do you live with?"

"My cousin and his wife."

"Could I have their number?"

Cloud gave it to him, and listened as Vincent spoke. "Hello, this is Dr. Valentine...well, I currently have your cousin-in-law in my care...yes, I have read the newspaper...he was injured, so I took him home...I knew he wouldn't want the attention after the bomb issue was sorted out...yes, he's right here." The man handed Cloud the phone. "She wishes to speak to you."

Gingerly, he put the phone to his ear. "Aerith?"

"_Cloud?_ Honey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Aerith."

"How are you feeling? Are you sick? Did this Dr. Valentine hurt you in any way?"

"No, I'm not sick. No, Vincent didn't hurt me."

"Did he touch you inappropriately? Because if he raped you, I don't want you staying with him for another second—you run away, you hear?"

"No, Aerith, he didn't rape me," he said through gritted teeth, his face burning and hyperaware of Vincent standing right next to him.

"Are you sure you're alright? Did you bathe? Have you eaten?"

"I said I was fine, yes and yes."

"Good, very good. Zack and I are coming to get you, so sit tight, okay?"

"Alright."

Click.

* * *

Sora was not having a good morning. No, not at all.

His day _had_ started off well enough—he had woken up in Roxas' arms, feeling much better than he had last night. It was raining outside, and the sound was soothing as he disentangled himself from his twin's hold and pulled on some clothing. He'd decided to be a bit daring today, and had donned a black AFI tank top with a fishnet shirt on top of it. With his usual fingerless gloves and black jeans, he was hunting for lost homework when he felt familiar arms around his waist.

"Someone looks sexy today," a husky voice whispered in his ear.

"Good morning to you too, Roxas."

"Hmm." Lightly tugging on Sora's arm, he drew the brunette into a long kiss, slipping his tongue into the boy's mouth. "Isn't it a bit skimpy for winter, though?" he asked when they parted.

"I have a heavy jacket. Plus, both the car and the school have heating."

"If you say so—"

"SORA!" There was an angry yell from downstairs.

The brunette groaned. "It is too fucking early in the damn morning—"

"You'd better go see what he wants, love."

Mumbling under his breath, he made his way to the kitchen where his father stood with the phone in one hand.

"Listen, some lady called—boy, what the hell are you wearing?" Yashiro asked in disgust as he caught sight of Sora's attire, forgetting about the call.

"Well, father," the brunette said dryly, "It's called clothing, and you put it on so that—"

"ISABELLA!"

"Yashiro, what is this racket?" Sora's mom poked her head out from the hallway.

"Have you _seen_ what your son is wearing?"

"Hmm." She gave her son a once over. "You look nice today, Sora. Are you sure you won't be cold?"

"_He does NOT look nice!" _The man hissed, glaring at his wife. _"He looks like a goddamn slut, is what he looks like!"_

"_Yashiro—"_

"Didn't you say that there was a call for me or something, dad?" Sora said quickly, wanting to head off the impending argument.

Still glaring, Yashiro handed the phone to Sora. "Some Dr. Mouse called about an appointment—I thought you were out of the hospital, boy!"

"She's my psychiatrist, dad." A small smile appeared on his lips as he took the phone. "Hello?"

"Sora?" said the high-pitched voice on the other line.

"Oh, hi, Minnie. Good morning, sorry about all the fuss."

"Good morning! It's quite alright. I just wanted to know if you are planning on keeping your appointment today, being that it's raining and all—"

"Of course I am!" he said. He really liked Minnie, she had helped him through a lot. She never forced him to tell her about his personal life if he didn't want to, and she was really funny. "It's just a little rain. I'll get my brother to drop me off."

"Excellent!" she chirped, and Sora idly wondered if she'd gotten laid or something. She seemed a little _too_ happy. "I'll see you at four, ne?"

"Sure."

Once glance told him that he wasn't out of the red zone yet—his father was still spluttering. "You're seeing some shrink?"

Isabella grabbed her husband's arm. "Honey, please calm down—"

"I will _not_ have _my_ son—"

Isabella made a shooing motion, eyes pleading, and the brunette quickly grabbed two Poptarts and rushed up the stairs. "Sora, what's going on?" Roxas asked as his brother burst into the room.

"We need to go. Like, _now_." Tossing his things into his backpack, he grabbed his jacket and an umbrella and opened their window, straddling the sill and clambering onto the small ladder outside it.

"Why? What happened?"

"Dad's having a freakout, he'll be up here in a few minutes yelling and then we'll be late—"

There was the sound of heavy tramping on the stairs and the twins exchanged a look of horror. Quickly, Sora jumped halfway down the ladder, groaning as mud splattered all over his boots and quickly putting up his umbrella. Roxas had gotten one leg out of the window, and was maneuvering the other one when their bedroom door burst open.

"_Where is that brunette bitch—"_

"Yashiro, I will not have you talking about our son that way!"

Tossing his keys at Sora, Roxas slid off the windowsill and into the mud bank as Sora fumbled with the keyring, jumping into their car and starting the ignition. "Roxas, hurry!"

No, Sora was not having a good morning.

* * *

"So, Cloud," Vincent said as they sat together in the living room. "May I ask another question?"

"Sure."

"Where, exactly, did you learn how to fight like that?"

"Um, my grandfather insisted that both Zack and I be taught how to fight. I didn't like him very much, but I guess it came in handy. Why?"

"Honestly, you don't seem like the type."

Cloud shot him a shy smile. "I don't know how to take that."

"Hmm. Simply accept it as fact."

The blonde glared weakly, and Vincent felt a small smile threatening to emerge. This boy was...amusing, he decided as he sipped from the glass in his hand. "How did you know something was going to happen?"

"I..." Cloud fiddled with his sleeve. He didn't know how to explain without sounding like an idiot, but he decided to try. "Sometimes I get these...feelings. Like, something bad is going to happen. I got one yesterday, and I sorta knew that it was about last night, so my friend helped me prepare."

Vincent pondered this. He had been surprised at the boy's explanation, but the skill sounded like a useful one to have. "Interesting..."

Just then, the doorbell rang, and Vincent got up to get it. There was the murmur of voices in the hall, and then a blur of pink before Cloud found himself on the floor, his cousin-in-law on top of him. "_CLOUD!_ Oh, god, I was so worried about you—are you still hurt? Do you need anything? How are you feeling?"

He resisted the urge to bat at her hands as they explored his body, poking and prodding everywhere they could reach. "Aerith, I _said_ I was okay—"

"Hey, should I be worried, cousin?" Zack strutted in, bright violet eyes sparkling in amusement at the scene before him. Cloud gave him a weak glare, more relieved to see him than anything.

"You shut up. And get your wife _off_ me, while you're at it."

Giggling, Aerith got off him and wrapped him up in a tight hug. "We were so worried about you, Spike— how come you never told us?" she whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, cuz," Zack chimed in. "You never came home last night, and then I read the morning paper and—"

Aerith's fierce glare and Zack's suddenly panicked expression raised warning bells in Cloud's mind. "...what about the morning paper?"

Looking uncomfortable, his cousin attempted to salvage the mess he had made under his wife's angry stare. "Um—what I meant to say was—"

Giving Cloud a squeeze, her green eyes stared into his blue ones with sadness and regret, knowing that what she had to say would hurt him. "Kuraudo, honey, please don't be angry, but a few things were published about last night."

"And when we get home, Spike, I want an explanation about all of this!" Zack interjected.

Ignoring him, Aerith went on. "Of course, the attempted kidnapping of Scarlet Shinra was headline news, but—"

"As a passive viewer," Vincent began, and the others jumped at the reminder that he was in the room. "I think that you should just show it to him."

"You really think so? Zack...I don't know..."

"Aerith, the doctor is right. Cloud will be eighteen in a few weeks, he's a big boy. I think he can handle it. Plus, you're not that much older than him, yourself—"

"This has _nothing_ to do with age, Zack!" She cried, quickly standing up. "I can't believe you would even _go_ there! They're being cruel and unfair about this, I don't want Cloud to worry about it while he's still injured!"

"Aerith—"

"Aerith." Cloud tugged lightly on the woman's hand, avoiding the familiar feeling of dread that was once again coursing through him. "Avoiding it won't make it go away."

"Spike is right, babe."

Tears fell from her emerald eyes and she quickly brushed them away, not wanting any of them to see. Familiar arms wrapped around her waist and she buried her face into her husband's neck, his wild black hair softly brushing her cheek as he rubbed her back.

She knew that all three of them were right. But she loved Cloud, ever since he had come to live with them after Mrs. Strife died in that fire he had become like a little brother to her. She didn't understand why he had even been there in the first place; her mind was whirling with questions. But all she understood was that he had succeeded in saving the life of a little girl—and they were saying cruel things about him because he had dressed in drag while doing it.

_So he was wearing fake boobs. So freaking what?_

The only thing stopping her from stomping up to her husband's workplace and ripping Rufus Shinra to bits was the fact that the man had come to Cloud's defense.

Taking the newspaper Zack handed him, Cloud gingerly unfolded it, as if there were a bomb in its folds that was waiting to explode. Vincent regarded him calmly as he scanned the font page. Scarlet's attempted kidnapping, of course, was headline news, but when he opened it up to page two...

...there was a picture of him, right after the fight, one hand in his hair and a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

_Oh, dear god._


	12. XI: Pink

**Watercolor **

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13/R  
**

**Chapter Warnings: Language, Citrus  
**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Sa****ïx**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: Well, here we are again, my lovelies, with Chapter 11! I admit, the chapter title has little to nothing to do with the chapter content. I just thought it up and got attached, I guess. Or maybe it's because of a certain someone's hair...?**

** Not much to write here, except that I'm kinda nervous about how I wrote the next-to-last POV in this chapter. (I won't say who it is to ruin the surprise!) So please, review. And a warning - next chapter will shock you. So if you intend to keep reading, prepare yourself.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**XI: Pink**

When Saïx awoke, the house was completely silent. The heavy rainfall outside made the only audible noise, telling him that he would need an umbrella. Groaning, he glanced at his clock, 6:30 gleaming back at him in neon light. _Hmm. I woke up just in time, then._

The quiet unnerved him as he stepped into the hallway—usually he could hear Zexion puttering around and muttering to himself as the frying pan hissed in the mornings. But today, there was nothing. He took a quick shower, relieved to see that sleep had washed away some of the aches and pains. The angry red mark on his left wrist still remained, however, and he knew that his usual studded wristbands would only make it worse. _It's long sleeves today, then..._

A note was waiting for him on the kitchen table as he made himself a bowl of cereal, crunching on the honey clusters as he skimmed it. Anger crossed his features as he tossed it back on the table in disgust.

"Damn it, Zexion!"

_Brat, something came up and I unfortunately had to leave for work early. Very, very early. So, I suggest that you find yourself another way to get to school, because if the office calls and tells me that you did not attend today there will be pain. A lot of pain. _

_Maybe this will teach you to listen, because obviously you're not getting the point. –Zexion_

Anxiously, the bluenette paced the checkered floor, thoughts bathed in despair. His brother was his usual ride to school and he didn't own a bus pass. Plus, they lived on the very edge of Hollow Bastion, so it would be impossible to walk. Or to ask anyone to go that far out of their way to give him a ride. Not to say that he had friends, anyway.

_Unless..._

Saïx bit his lip, apprehensive. _I could always call Xemnas for a ride. I mean, he does own a car, right?_

_But wouldn't that be taking advantage of the fact that he likes you? _

_I don't know...I don't even know why he likes me in the first place. _A sad sigh.

_But you have to get to school somehow, ne?_

His self-preservation instincts winning out in the end, he flipped his phone open and looked up Xemnas' number.

"Hello?" The silver-haired boy's voice was husky from sleep, and Saïx suddenly felt a distinct fluttering in his middle. Ignoring it, he answered. "Hey. It's Saïx."

"Really now?" From across town, Xemnas sat up in bed as he heard the voice of his current obsession, the area between his legs aching with the beginnings of a raging hard-on. "And what gave me the pleasure of hearing your voice so early in the morning?"

"Um..." The bluenette's voice was apprehensive and Xemnas felt a small flicker of worry. "My brother had to leave for work early today, so I was wondering...I mean, if it isn't out of your way or anything, if you could pick...me up...?"

In that moment, Xemnas saw Nirvana.

"It would be my pleasure," he said smoothly, managing to suppress a small moan as he gently rubbed himself through his boxers. _God_, he was so turned on. "Can't have you missing out on your education, now can we?"

The blue-haired boy was glad that Xemnas couldn't see the violet shade of burgundy spreading across his cheeks. "Y-yeah. So, um, I'll see you in 20?"

"Of course."

Relieved, the bluenette snapped his phone shut and calmly finished his cereal—completely unaware that his ride was currently shaking and shuddering as he brought himself to a Saïx-induced orgasm.

_Well_, Xemnas thought vaguely as he came all over his bedsheets, _I guess I can be a teensy bit late._

* * *

It was no secret how to get past the desk secretary in the main office. Every student that claimed the right to call themselves a member of Hollow Bastion High had done it at least once—it simply involved a partnership of two people, baked goods, and of course, very precise timing. And everyone loved the secretary, the way that she lit up whenever she was told that they were "giving out cupcakes in the cafeteria" and the way she'd take forever to fawn over her treat when it was handed to her by a deceptively generous student. 

Which was why Kairi Whitebridge was happily tapping away at Mrs. Shindou's keyboard while said Mrs. Shindou was showing off her cupcake to her fellow faculty members, three floors down, before darting into a corner to eat it.

Yes, everyone loved the plump secretary. Her gluttonous ways made life all the more sweet.

Kairi gave the computer the "secret" password (the whole school knew it) and managed to get into the student database, quickly running a search for 'Akiyama' and accessing both Sora and Roxas' files. Her eye was on the clock, mentally charting Mrs. Shindou's predictable moves as she debated on which file to click. _Hmm...I'd better try Roxas' first so I can know what a normal file looks like. _

Entering the blonde's file, she found normal mundane stuff—his medical history, address, phone numbers, grades _(ooh, a C in Pre-Calc?) _and behavioral infractions. Nothing out of the ordinary. Exiting it, she went for Sora's file, hunting for anything suspicious.

_Hmm, what's this?_

Below the clerical stuff, there was a small icon marked "Confidential". _Finally!_ Eagerly, she clicked on it, excitement bubbling up within her. _See, Roxas? _She thought smugly. _I told you I'd find out..._

...and her good mood was immediately shattered as the computer demanded a password.

"Damn it!"

Thumping the keyboard in frustration, she exited the program and gathered up her stuff to leave, stepping out of the office just as Mrs. Shindou came in with cupcake frosting all over her face. It looked like gossip queen Kairi would have to take measures that she had been trying to avoid at all costs. The mission would be dangerous, and it would be risky, but her teetering social position and her own inherent curiosity resolved her to it. Besides, Sora's behavior had been too suspect to let this go. She had no other choice.

She would have to talk to her father.

* * *

He watched her talk to her two friends as she walked down the hallway, the three of them chatting as she opened her locker. A regal hand carefully picked out her books for second period, blonde hair lingering at the nape of her neck, green eyes glittering with knowledge. 

_God, she's beautiful._

She was wearing a black skirt that swished around her thighs and knee-high boots, her top brushing her midriff and coming to her elbows. There was a deep ruby jewel sitting in the hollow of her throat, and it glinted as she touched it absentmindedly, fingernails painted a deep matching crimson. Her laugh was like ice shards in his chest, beautiful to hear but with an undertone of something piercing, dark. He envied the positions of her two friends, they were allowed to touch her, be near her, while he could only watch from a distance...until today.

Today was the day. This blessed, chosen Thursday, the day that he had been prepping for all week. His unruly hair had been tamed, he was wearing clean underwear, and a single red rose was clutched in his hand.

_I can do this. I can do this. I can do this..._

It wasn't as though he hadn't had any experience with girls. He had, although most of them thought he was automatically gay because of his hair color. But _she_...he continued to stare at her, watching as one of the guys—Vexen, he remembered—briefly put a hand on her shoulder before walking off with the other guy. He felt himself tense in jealousy and fought to calm the growing urge in his chest to hurt the blonde boy...

_Dude. You're turning into a fucking pansy over her. She'll never say yes if you're in this state, _his inner voice sneered at him._ Calm the fuck down._

Taking a deep breath, he approached the blonde beauty, drifting to a stop a few steps away. She was fiddling with her purse and didn't notice that he was standing directly in front of her until she looked up and shrieked in surprise, immediately dropping everything she was holding. Her books and purse went clattering to the floor and inwardly cursing, he quickly knelt to help her gather her stuff. _Smooth, Sakano. Real smooth._ "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry—"

"It's fine, Sakano," she said, a bite to her voice as she picked up what she could hold and stood, regarding him coolly. "I wasn't expecting you to be lurking in front of me, is all. What's your deal, anyway?"

_Now look what you've done, genius! You're not getting another opportunity, so snap to it! _

This was his only chance—he had gotten off to a horrible start, but the moment of truth had come. He couldn't escape it. Deciding to hold the rest of her things for now, he breathed out, "Actually, I—I wanted to ask you something."

One blonde eyebrow raised. "Oh, really?"

"Um, yeah." With a pounding heart and sweaty palms, he awkwardly extended the slightly crushed flower and watched her eyebrow raise even higher. "Would you—I mean, can I—not to impose or anything, but—I was just wondering—"

"Spit it out, Sakano."

"Willyouhavelunchwithme?"

"...try that again, and this time, use the spacebar." She was smirking now, but it didn't look malicious, merely amused and curious. His blood pounded in his veins—he was fucking rich, had near-perfect grades, an influential family, a mansion, cars and everything he could possibly need at his fingertips—asking a girl out should _not_ be this hard, damn it.

"Larxene." he took a deep, shuddering breath. "Will you have lunch with me today?"

She looked at him, and then down at the flower, and then back at him. And then slowly, ever so slowly, she took it, twirling it around between her fingers—and then she smiled at him. Not a smirk, not a sneer, but a real genuine smile. That small spark of hope in his chest ignited into a blazing inferno, and he waited with bated breath for her to speak.

"Hmm." There was a hint of humor in her cold voice. "I guess you're cute enough, Sakano."

"So—" he stuttered out, hardly daring to believe it. "So—it's a...date?"

"Hmm, I wouldn't go that far." Smirking, she reached out and took her books from his arms, a blessed brush of fingers making his entire arm quiver. "I'll see you fifth period then...Marluxia."

And then she walked off, tucking the rose behind her ear. Slumping against her locker, he inwardly sneered back at the voice, triumph replacing the earlier nervousness.

_Who's your daddy now, bitch?_

_...shut the fuck up._

* * *

Reno was not having a good morning. 

He knew, from the second that the black wig had gone skidding across the ballroom floor, that he was in some major trouble. After the confusion of the bomb had been sorted out, the cameras had started flashing again, this time in his direction. His Uncle Rufus had been a help, waving the paparazzi away and steering him out of the ballroom, giving him a lift home. Unfortunately, this was where the blonde's help ended.

The Sinclairs had been furious. Reno's ears were still ringing from the thorough tongue-lashing that his mother had given him, demanding to know why he had done it, who this Cloud was, if he was gay or not, if they would have to speak to Elena Tenshi's parents about cutting off their arranged engagement. She had gone on for hours and his father had just stood there, silently glowering before walking off without a word.

The second he had stepped into the school building, whispers and laughter had followed him to his locker. Everyone, it seemed, had seen the newspaper—including the teachers, who had taken a sick glee in torturing him today. And Cloud was nowhere to be found, although he couldn't exactly blame the blonde for not showing up. But _still..._

Reno had no clue was he was going to do about Cloud. Common sense told him that he should break up with his boyfriend—but the blonde was just too damn cute. He loved the little moan-breath-gasp thing he did when Reno was ramming into his tight ass, loved the way his sinful little lips would move over the redhead's cock, a hazy expression in those cerulean eyes. Hell, he was getting turned on just _thinking_ about it.

Cloud was also quiet as hell, never asking for anything and always willing to do what the redhead asked—unlike the boyfriend of his cousin Axel, who whined and bitched for every little thing. He _hated_ being around Demyx—the boy didn't know when to shut the fuck up, and Axel just _tolerated_ it, instead of giving him a sound punch in the mouth. Fortunately, he'd never had to take such measures with Cloud.

Sweet, quiet Cloud, always content with the scraps of attention that Reno gave him when the redhead wasn't hanging with his friends, or talking to girls, or getting drunk. No, Reno reasoned, letting the blonde go wasn't an option. But he couldn't just excuse what his boyfriend had done...Reno ran a hand through his hair in thought.

He'd visit Cloud after school.

With this little dilemma solved, he closed his locker and turned to go to class, only to come face to face with Axel—Demyx hanging off his arm. The redhead scowled.

"Can I help you, yo?"

"Family can't talk to family, Reno? I'm hurt," Axel dramatized, putting a hand over his heart. Demyx giggled, and Reno winced at the irritating sound.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to be late to Rodney's class, so move. Now." He went to walk around the boy but Axel's next words stopped him.

"I heard you got into a spot of trouble at Shinra's shindig last night, dear cousin. Hm, I knew you were into that kinky shit but don't you think that's a teensy bit extreme?"

"Go take it up the ass, Axel," Reno growled. He was not in the mood to deal with the older redhead right now.

"Aww, but it's better to give than to receive," his cousin cooed, pressing a small kiss behind his boyfriend's ear. Demyx blushed a violent red. "Stop that, Axel."

"But babe, you're so cute..."

Bad mood worsening, Reno stomped off the class, trying to block out the noise of students around him, chattering and laughing and pointing in his direction. Suddenly, he was all the more eager for school to be over. He wanted to be with Cloud, he hadn't noticed how much the blonde's absence unnerved him. _It's all white noise, yo...god, I can't wait for this day to end..._

* * *

Leon was worried. 

Scratch that, he was more than worried. He had poured himself a glass of orange juice this morning and sat on the kitchen stool in pajamas, casually flipping the paper open and taking a sip...and promptly spewing his mouthful at seeing Cloud's picture on the second page.

Leon had virtually no friends—Cloud was the only person who understood him. The blonde was precious—although he'd never tell Cloud that—and Leon wouldn't stand for anyone messing with him. He didn't even have to read further to know who was responsible.

_Sinclair._

When he saw that annoying redhead, Leon was going to smash that little cum stain into the ground for what he was doing to Cloud. It wasn't because Leon was jealous; he didn't feel that way about his blonde friend. It was the way Reno acted—he treated the blonde like his lackey rather than someone to treasure. And to have Cloud _cross-dressing,_ of all foolish things—it was bound to get out to the public sooner or later.

He couldn't fault Cloud for staying home today—if it had been Leon, he wouldn't have come to school either. Speeding up his pace, he clenched his fists as evil thoughts came to mind. _When I get my hands on that fucking weasel I'm going to beat the shit out of him and then rip his dick off—_

Unfortunately, this train of perpetual sadism was promptly cut off as he slammed into someone. Hard.

Leon managed to keep balance but the person went crashing to the ground, a week protest of pain escaping from his lips. Stumbling a bit from the force of the collision, he watched as a full head of disheveled silver hair revealed itself, its owner sitting up and fixing a pair of hazy peridot eyes on him.

_Who the hell is that?_

* * *

Riku knew that he was probably overreacting. That his best friend would tell him in due time, that he was being impatient, that he wasn't giving Sora enough breathing room. But he couldn't help it. 

He felt hopelessly empty. And hopelessly, desperately in love.

He floated through his classes on autopilot, mind stuck on Roxas' words. He yearned to know what had happened to his Sora, and stubbornly suppressed the wild jealousy coursing through him. _What does Roxas know that Sora won't tell me? I'm his best friend...right?_

Sad and confused, he fumbled his way through the hallway, thoughts on the brunette and not on his path until the ground rushed up to meet his head and Riku groaned at the sudden jolt of pain. Blearily, he managed to sit up and focus on the person that he...had...crashed in...to

_Wow. Just...wow._

The teen was like nobody Riku had ever seen. He was tall, with hair the color of cinnamon and eyes the shade of the sky at monsoon. His clothing was black and black-on-white, three studded red belts wrapped around his waist. A pale hand reached out to him, apology and annoyance equally flecked through those stormy gray irises.

"Hey, you okay?"

Riku gratefully accepted the boy's hand, heat pooling in his cheeks as he realized he had been staring. "Y-yeah, I'm fine." Hurriedly, he hastened to apologize. "Look, I'm sorry—I wasn't really paying attention—"

"Whatever. Just _watch it_ next time," the older teen cut him off with a glare. "Some people might not be as forgiving."

Riku stayed on the floor long after the boy had left. People were walking around him, pointing and staring but he couldn't bring himself to care. His thoughts were fuzzy and disjointed, save for one thought.

_Who was that...?_


	13. XII: Mind Games

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: R**

**Chapter Warnings: Rape, Graphic Detail**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Sa****ïx**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: Please review - I worked very hard on this one - especially since it almost made me toss my cookies while I wrote it. Major plot movements here, so pay close attention. Oh, and I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my beta, My hand held in yours, since I made a lot of mistakes in this chapter and she caught them all because she's cool like that. If she were bi too, I'd totally do her...er...nevermind. **

**-sweatdrop-**

**Enjoy!  
**

* * *

**XII: Mind Games**

A pair of leather boots paced in and out of his vision. He couldn't see much, the room was dark and he could barely make out his brothers, kneeling on either side of him. He didn't dare look up at the owner of said boots, the thick tension settling like an unsteady weight around the room was reason enough to keep still.

"So."

A childlike whimper came from next to him, and he inwardly screamed. "Nii-san, please..."

_Brother, NO—_

A rolled up newspaper came down harshly upon the teen's head, his shrill scream blocking out the thump noise as he dropped to the ground. The figure dropped in front of the boy and a leather-encased hand grabbed a pale throat, suppressing a gurgled choking noise. There was no protest as the teen was pulled into a rough kiss, and he knew not to say anything by now as impatient hands groped the boy shamelessly, but the tears forming in his brother's eyes were hard to ignore.

There was blood on Kadaj's lips when Nii-san let go.

"Disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful." The boots resumed their path around the circular room. "I thought I taught you better. I thought you understood what you were shown. I thought you had _skill_." A derisive chuckle. "But evidently I was wrong. Because, dear ones, you were bested. Terribly."

Nii-san unrolled the all-too-familiar newspaper and dangled it in front of Loz's face. "Do you see this, Loz?"

He kept his silence—and immediately realized his mistake as a shiny boot slammed into his nose. Crimson spewed everywhere as the force behind the kick sent him sprawling on the floor, Nii-san putting his blood-stained shoe on Loz's neck.

"_Do. You. See. It?"_

"Yes, Nii-san."

"Do you see your failure?" The man wheezed as the boot pressed harder, finding it difficult to draw breath. "Do you see how a _boy in drag _was able to utterly and completely dominate you?"

Suddenly Nii-san laughed, long and hard and deep, and the weight was gone. Loz greedily drank in the blessed air, his lungs stinging. "He made you his bitch. And since you are mine, he made me his bitch. And I think you know how much I don't appreciate that. So," The man's voice was light and cheery, "What is to be done?"

No one answered his question.

"I think," his voice grew sirenic as he ran his gaze down Kadaj's body, "That someone will have to pay."

"Nii-san, please," Yazoo decided to speak up. "He's just seventeen, and he's still healing, please—I can take his punishment—"

"SILENCE!" Nii-san thundered. It was lucky for Yazoo that Older Brother liked him best and barely raised a hand to him. "Out. Both of you. And Yazoo, you are to fetch Kadaj when we are finished...playing."

Both of them avoided their brother's silent, desperate pleading as they rose. They couldn't bring themselves to look at him and know that they were powerless to protect him...like they had promised they would.

Loz shut the wooden door.

* * *

His hands were over his ears, a futile attempt at blocking out the moans, grunts and screams from the next room. It had been going on for hours, and with every passing minute something in his chest seemed to grow tighter and tighter until it was hard to breathe. _Please,_ he begged. _Please, don't kill him for my mistakes..._

Every second living with the knowledge that his brother was broken was like bamboo under his fingernails. He had tried so hard to protect Kadaj—to protect the devious, cunning, _lively_ boy that he had once known and loved. But he just wasn't _good_ enough, just couldn't seem to get it right, just couldn't seem to be the person that he needed to be. And because of his utter weakness...

There was an ending cry, a faint one as Kadaj's voice was strained to its limits—Nii-san had climaxed for the final time. He could hear slight hitches in his brother's breathing as he struggled to block out the pain, could hear Older Brother puttering around and finally, _finally,_ the heavy door swing open.

Peeking his head out of his room, he saw Yazoo anxiously hovering in the doorway as Nii-san came out, ignoring them both and walking in the opposite direction. Quickly, both brothers entered the circular room and approached the table that their youngest lay upon, tears frozen on his cheeks. Yazoo covered his mouth in horror, tears of his own glistening in his eyes.

Kadaj looked horrible.

He was drenched. From head to toe, only fragments of skin could be seen among the copious amounts of blood and semen. The sick mixture oozed out of his opening, dribbling down his legs and staining the surface he lay on. His lips were swollen, bruised and angry red, his silver hair tinted pink. There were dark blue marks on his hips and thighs from where Nii-san had gripped him too tightly, and his back—from what they could see—was rubbed raw from sliding repeatedly across the wood. His abused mouth moved helplessly as he tried to form words. "...elp...m...e..."

"We can't move him, Loz," Yazoo said, already slipping into his medic mode.

"Are you fucking crazy?"

"Look at the extent of his injuries, brother, moving him would only make things worse—"

"He was just _raped in this room,_ Yazoo!" Loz boomed, his anger and frustration directing themselves towards the nearest target. "Do you seriously think Kadaj wants to stay here?"

The older released a ragged sigh. _"Fine._ We'll take him to his room. But be _gentle,_ okay?"

Yazoo excused himself to ready his supplies as he walked over to the stone projection. Hazy peridot eyes tried their best to focus on him as he neared. "...Lo...?"

"Yes. It's me, Kadaj."

"...w'nt to...out..."

"Shh. I'm getting you out now, okay?"

Tenderly (and trying not to think about _what_ exactly was getting on his clothing) he picked Kadaj up, carefully cradling the teen in his arms as they left the chamber and walked down the hall. Yazoo had Kadaj's room ready by the time he set the boy down on his bed, pointing to a bucket and a pile of towels and sponges. "Clean him off. And be—"

"_Gentle,_ damn it Yazoo, I _know!_"

As he sponged the fluids away, the oldest snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and attempted to get Kadaj to spread his legs. Instantly, the boy began to scream and alarmed, Loz looked up from his cleaning. "The hell do you think you're doing?"

"I have to check for anal tearing, Loz."

"Are you stupid or something? Of _course_ there's tearing, Nii-san's been plundering his ass for a straight six hours—"

Kadaj let out a wail, and Yazoo shot him a helpless look. Awkwardly, Loz hugged his younger brother, large fingers petting the teen's hair. "It's alright...don't cry...he's not going to hurt you, okay?"

"Dn't w'nt...g'in thr..."

"Yazoo is our brother, okay? We've done this before...he's only going to check how hurt you are...er...back there, alright?"

Kadaj didn't respond but his limbs went slack, and Yazoo gently nudged his legs apart and began to probe. The glove quickly became slick with blood, and the oldest suppressed a curse. "It's bad, Loz," he said briskly, rolling the gloves off his fingers and tossing them in the trash.

"Worse than last time, Yazoo?"

"Not much worse, but still no picnic. It'll heal by itself as usual, but it's going to take a long time. And we don't know how Nii-san's mind works; we'll just have to pray nothing happens..." The elder continued to babble to himself as he toweled a sleeping Kadaj dry and rolled him over to treat his back. "He needs rest and care."

"And bubble tea?"

"And bubble tea." Yazoo couldn't help but snicker as he rubbed ointment on Kadaj's smarting skin. "I'll buy some when I go out this evening. Can you put the stuff away and watch him?"

"I've nothing better to do, surely."

"Good, then—" The chime of Yazoo's phone echoed in the room and the man cursed as he read the message. "I'm needed—I'll be back later, alright?"

"Okay." He watched his brother prepare to leave, but not before a lingering kiss was pressed to his lips.

"Don't crucify yourself over this, brother."

And then the medic was gone, and Loz was left alone with his sins.

* * *

It was fifth period. 

Marluxia had watched the clock with a beady eye all morning. He couldn't concentrate in classes, knowing that in a few short hours he'd be sitting at a table with Larxene, alone, impressing her with his good looks and scintillating conversation...

"Daydreaming again, Marluxia?"

He jumped about a foot in the air at that familiar British accent. "I thought I told you not to do that, asshole!"

Luxord only smiled. "You should be thanking me, my friend. Any longer and you would have hurt yourself."

"Go get screwed."

"Mmm, I intend to. Anyway, I wish you luck in your endeavors with the lady Larxene, Marluxia. I shall see you at your parents' soirée on Sunday, I presume?"

"Yeah, whatever. Go gamble or something, Luxord."

Smiling, the blonde walked off.

The two of them had been raised together. Both being from influential families, it was only natural that their parents wanted the children to mingle with the right people. And unlike the other assholic teenagers of the Sakano family's other friend, Luxord was pretty cool. They had done everything together as tweens—there was even a period where the blonde thought he was gay, and Marluxia—albeit uncomfortably—had been Luxord's guinea pig.

Needless to say, it was a great relief when they both turned out to be straight. Not that it hadn't felt good or anything, but...

Yes.

Well.

Larxene was sitting by herself at a table in the corner, legs crossed, reading a magazine, idly stirring the bowl of ramen in front of her. She looked up as he sat down across from her, and closed the magazine—but he managed to get a glimpse of the cover before she put it away.

"You read _Bladed?_"

"Yeah." There was a hint of defiance in her voice, as if she thought he was mocking her. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing—" alarmed, he tried to placate her. He really hadn't meant it to sound that way. "It's just that—I love that magazine," he finished meekly.

"Really now?" she sat forward, peridot eyes showing surprise and interest. "What's your type?"

"Personally," Calm now that she was calm, he relaxed into one of his favorite topics. "I like scythes..."

They were well into a debate about everything silver, sharp, and pointy—and he was loving it. He never realized how animated she could be when she was talking about something interesting to her. Her eyes shone with information that she couldn't get out fast enough, her hands gesticulated wildly, and she kept shifting in her seat, as if she couldn't sit still. As they argued over which was better—scythes or knives—he watched her come even more alive and thought, not for the first time, _God, she's beautiful._

"I say that knives are better, damn it!"

"No, scythes are better. More bloodshed."

"But knives are more compact, and you actually get to see the handle sticking out of the skin when you use them! Tell me that's not satisfying!"

"You can stab someone with a scythe!"

"No, you can't. The blade is too big—whatever body part you swing at, it'll just go through."

"But with knives, there's a better chance at missing the target altogether—"

"But the _precision_...you can get someone exactly where you want them...like in the eye, for example..."

They happily continued this conversation for the rest of the period until the bell rang, much to Marluxia's disappointment. "Larxene?"

"Yes?" she looked up from where she was fiddling with her bag.

"If it isn't a bother...could we do this again tomorrow?"

"I won't be in school tomorrow," she said. "I have somewhere to be, and at lunch on Monday I'll be busy."

"Oh..." he knew a dismissal when he saw one. Despite the fun they had had, she obviously wasn't interested. "Um, okay then..."

"But—" she continued, a smirk on her face as if she knew exactly what he had been thinking, "Do you want to come over after school on Monday?"

"Wait, what?"

_Come over? As in, come over to her house? Just me? No one else? Where she lives? In a room? With a bed?_

_Be still, my beating heart._

Taking out a marker, she grabbed his arm—_be STILL, damn it_—and penned an address. "Be there at four. I have some people I want you to meet."

* * *

"Cloud, are you hungry?" 

"No, Aerith."

"But you haven't eaten since you got home!" she protested. "Just a sandwich?"

"Maybe later, Aerith."

Sighing, she stepped away from the teenager's door, making her way downstairs. Exchanging a worried look with her husband, who sat in the living room angrily sharpening his sword, she felt the beginnings of anger deep inside of her as she set water to boil for soup.

As promised, they had arrived home from the doctor's place and Cloud had explained everything before barricading himself in his room. She was shocked, yes, but Zack had taken it the worst. He hadn't even known his little cousin was _gay,_ let alone dressing as a girl to attend _his_ boss' social events with his soon-to-be-dead boyfriend. Reading that article and watching the tapes that the news ran of Cloud's fight had confused the hell out of him—even though Cloud had kicked that man's ass—and to have his cousin confirm what he thought was just a rumor...

Aerith had had her suspicious about Cloud's sexuality, being female and more observant, but she couldn't understand how he had managed to date another guy for a year without them knowing about it. _Have we really become so blind? _she thought, anger siphoning off and giving way to sadness.

She gathered vegetables for cutting as the water boiled, the repeated sounds of stone grating metal coming from the next room. Zack was hurt, she could tell, even though he didn't want to show it. He loved Cloud, loved him with a fierce, protective love that was different but as intense as the love he felt for her—and Cloud hadn't told him that someone was hurting him. Of course, the blonde probably didn't see it that way, but they both knew better. The sparkle was missing from the teen's eyes, and neither of them had noticed until today.

She brushed away cold tears as the doorbell rang. Puzzled—they rarely got visitors—she poked her head into the living room.

"Zack, honey, are you expecting anyone?"

He looked just as confused, but smiled at her. "No, I would have told you, babe. You'd better go get that."

Curious, she quickly made her way to the front door and opened it—and immediately regretted the action.

"Hello, Mrs. Fair—is Cloud home?"

It was that redheaded nightmare.

She had to admit, he looked pretty decent—she noted the bouquet of white and pink narcissi with some small approval—but she still didn't like him, and she didn't want him to see Cloud. She could almost _feel_ Zack's murderous impulse levels spike as he deduced who was at the door, and the grinding noises grew almost violent. But, as much as she and Zack despised the situation, they knew there was nothing they could do.

Cloud was old enough to make his own decisions. She would leave it up to him.

"Yes, he's home. Please, come in, and I'll ask him if he's up to visitors." Glad to escape the brewing tension, she left Reno alone with Zack, hurrying upstairs and rapping on the blonde's door.

"Kuraudo?"

"I said I wasn't hungry, Aerith—"

"Your boyfriend's here to see you. Do you want to see him?"

Cloud didn't say anything for a few minutes, and Aerith was almost certain that she'd get to send Reno away until he spoke.

"Okay."

* * *

Sitting in Cloud's living room, Reno was not feeling the love. 

Mr. Fair wouldn't stop looking at him. The man stared, and stared, and stared, harshly running a small piece of stone around the edges of the biggest-ass sword he had ever seen. Tension was in the man's body and pouring into the room like water from a sieve. Those creepy purple eyes watched his every movement, distaste evident in his gaze, and Reno had to resist the urge to squirm. _What's his damage, yo?_

He'd never been more relieved than when Mrs. Fair had come downstairs and told him he could go up.

Cloud's room was completely dark, the periwinkle glint of the overcast sky between his blinds the only source of light. The blonde was curled in a small ball around his pillow, facing his window, and Reno almost smiled at the cuteness. Suppressing the urge, he sat on Cloud's bed and smoothly drew the blonde into a kiss. Bright cobalt eyes stared back at him with a mixture of happiness, wariness, and apprehension.

"Cloud."

Cloud couldn't help but feel nervous. Very, very nervous. He didn't know why—Reno was his _boyfriend_, after all, who loved him and would never hurt him, right? So why did he feel so nervous? Why did he feel so nervous when the voice that whispered sweet nothings spoke to him, when the hands that brought him so much pleasure wrapped around his waist? He needed the redhead when he was away, why did he not want this when he had finally gotten it? He didn't understand something that had once held a crystal's clarity, and it scared him.

The flowers brought him some small comfort and he couldn't help but flush when Reno placed them in his arms. The petals were soft and sweet smelling, and a bit of the tension that had gathered disappeared—until lips began to trace patterns over his collarbone, a hand rode up his shirt—and he stiffened again.

"Cloud, baby, why are you being this way?" the redhead whispered. "You used to love it when I touched you like this...could it be that you don't love me anymore?"

"O-of course I love you, Reno—"

"I'm not too sure about that, Cloud." The redhead said, and Cloud gasped sharply as agile fingers circled and pinched a nipple. "I do so much for you...make you my lover...take you places...buy you things...and you don't appreciate any of it, hm?"

The blonde couldn't answer—the redhead's touch was ghosting over his cock and it felt like everything had shut off. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten such attention, and the sudden touches after so long were chasing everything away. He struggled to understand his boyfriend's words, maybe he should say some...thing...?

"Everyone is angry with me...the press won't leave my family alone, Cloud." Reno said, wrapping a hand around the blonde's erection and beginning to stroke.

"I'm s-sorry—_oh_—" Thinking was like trying to wade through maple syrup. He had so much that he wanted to say to the redhead, and he couldn't remember anything—the only thing that mattered was that Reno kept touching him—

"You know, I'm sorry to say but it's kinda all your fault, Cloud. And yeah, I'm kinda mad, yo."

A bit of coherency managed to find its way back—Reno was mad at him? "I-I had to—the little girl—"

"Who, Scarlet?" Reno was on top of him now, one hand on his waist, the other underneath his boxers, precum glistening on his fingers. "She would have been fine. It was a Shinra party...my uncle employs maximum security, Cloud."

He hadn't considered this, he'd just played it by instinct. But it had worked, right...?

Apparently, this showed on his face. Reno watched him closely, Cloud's expression telling the redhead everything he wanted to know. "You didn't think about that, did you baby?"

"N-no..."

"You know, maybe you were right before. Maybe I shouldn't touch you after all—"

He couldn't help it—maybe because it had been so long, maybe because he felt guilty for causing the redhead's family pain, maybe because he was so fucking _close_ to orgasm that he could goddamn _taste_ it and the hand on his cock had stopped moving—he let out a very loud, uncharacteristic wail that he was pretty sure echoed downstairs. "I'm _sorry_, okay? I didn't mean to, I just didn't want her to get hurt—I didn't mean to cause trouble, I'll do anything, just don't be angry with me!"

"Anything?"

"Yes!"

"Spend the weekend with me." Reno's voice was heavy in his ear. "All weekend. At my uncle's place. If you come—and do everything I say when we get there—I won't be mad anymore. Okay?"

"Okay—"

"Promise me."

"I...I promise."

After the redhead was gone, his pulse rate slowed down and his mind cleared up, he buried his face in his pillow, a few tears escaping down his cheeks.

He'd been played, and now he knew it.

_But...shouldn't that be a good thing? I'm getting to spend a weekend alone with Reno, probably having perpetual sex, no one to bother us, and after that things will be back to normal._

_So why don't I feel excited?_

* * *

"My god, this whole day was a nightmare," Sora moaned as he collapsed into Roxas' hold, letting his twin drag him over to their car. 

Despite their efforts, the delay their father had caused had gotten them to school late, muddy and drenched from the rain. His physics teacher had told him off in front of the entire class for being late, and then that annoying blonde bitch had babbled on about lipstick to him for the entire class period. In Pre-Calc he realized that he had forgotten the homework on his desk, and the professor had made him do the day's equations on the board by himself—all fifty-seven of them. At lunch, he had slipped in a puddle of _something_ and fallen flat on his ass to the laughter of the entire lunchroom. In gym, he got smacked in the face by a stray volleyball, in art, he had accidentally tipped the paint can over onto Roxas' drawing, the desk, and the floor, and had to clean it up. And to top it off, he'd just spent an entire hour bitching to Minnie about his father, only to have her say that he was overreacting and needed some iron.

_What the hell?_

"Yeah, fate was pretty harsh on you today, wasn't it?" Roxas said, pulling him into a soft kiss. All the tension and frustration seemed to melt away as their tongues danced gently together, deepening the kiss.

"You know what I think you need, Sora?" The blonde said as they pulled away and the key slipped into the ignition.

"What?"

"A vacation."

"Christmas break is next week, Roxas—"

"That's not what I meant."

Sora shot him a questioning look, but his brother's eyes were fixed on the road. "I was thinking that maybe we could do something together this weekend. Maybe go to the East Side, or visit the shore, or go camping—anywhere you want."

"Really?" The brunette was touched. Roxas had obviously put some thought into this.

"Yeah. It'll be harder to spend time together with Yashiro home. And it's only been a day, but I already want to get away from him. Besides, you deserve it—honestly, you did better in school than I thought you would."

The brunette smiled, the wind from the open windows tossing his spikes about. "I think I'd like to see the East Side. But...wouldn't it look suspicious if we go anywhere together, I mean, since we're twins and stuff?"

"Sora," the blonde couldn't help but smirk. "You obviously don't know Traverse Town very well."

"Like you know it any better than me—"

"Kitten, what do you think I was doing all those times I told mom I was at band practice?"

"Um, at band practice?"

Roxas took a hand off the steering to ruffle Sora's hair. "You're so cute. For your information, my love, a_nything_ goes up there—incest, cross-dressing, sex change—"

"_Really?"_

Sora was wide-eyed, and Roxas felt a small pang of sadness in his chest amidst the happiness there. It had been so long since he'd seen that expression on his lover. He'd missed it. "Yeah. Really. No one will care, trust me."

"So..." Sora's azure eyes were wide and sparkling, "we'll get to spend the whole weekend... like a normal couple?"

Ignoring the brief twang of pain that struck him when the brunette said 'normal', he smiled down at his twin. "Yes."

Sora didn't say anything after that, but he was exuding contentment for the rest of the ride. When they got home, the blonde felt a soft hand slip into his and squeeze.

And for Roxas, that was enough.


	14. XIII: Shot Glasses

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13  
**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language, Citrus  
**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Sa****ïx, Marluxia x Larxene**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: Well, here we are with Chapter 13! Not much to say on this chapter, except that there's a very philosophical/metaphorical reason for the chapter title. It's one of those things that makes no sense in the beginning but when someone explains it, you go "Ohhh..." and feel stupid.**

**I'm rambling...**

**Okay, things to watch out for: the near-bipolar behavior of one of the characters, fatherly!Zack, pushy ukes, incest (on top of what we already had? Miroir, you minx...) and an important revelation is made at the very end of the chapter. I'm sure most of you would have already guessed the "revelation" by now, when you read it. I made it rather obvious...but it's in black and white now, ne? -smile-  
**

**Please review, and enjoy. Oh - my clock tells me that I am a good two and a half hours late, but happy Fourth of July, everyone! **

* * *

**XIII: Shot Glasses**

Cloud sat on his bed with a sigh, idly staring up at the ceiling. A small duffel bag of things he would need for the weekend sat next to him, and he was waiting for Reno to pick him up. With all of his homework finished in record time and his things packed, he had nothing to do. Except think.

And thinking was bad.

He was almost relieved when there was a rap on his door and Zack stuck his head in. "Hey Spike, you busy?"

"Not really."

"Can I come in?"

"...sure."

Closing the door behind him, Zack straddled Cloud's desk chair and sat, motioning his head to the bag. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah. I'm spending the weekend with Reno."

"Hmm. Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, Spike."

"What, so I can't go?"

Zack looked surprised. "I meant Reno, not the trip."

"...oh." Uncomfortable, the blonde picked at his blankets, not wanting to look at his cousin. The man noticed, but chose not to comment, instead beginning to speak.

"Look, Spike, you know Aerith and I don't make a habit of telling you what to do. And...I don't know if you've ever thought about it, but there's a reason why we're your guardians and didn't adopt you. She's not Aunt Chrissie, and I'm not Uncle Nicky—"

"You know, if they were alive, they'd kick your ass if they heard you calling them that."

"Yeah, I know, right?" The violet-eyed man couldn't help but grin. Christina and Nicolas Strife had earned a reputation for being very anal about things. Not that they weren't nice people—they had treated him well, and had been kind and understanding and all that jazz—they were just...uptight. Very, very uptight. Sometimes he guiltily found himself glad that a plane crash had taken their lives—they wouldn't have liked the fact that their son was a cross-dressing homosexual. He shuddered to think...

"Anyway," Zack continued, getting serious again. "When we got married, and moved in together and whatnot...we weren't very sure about stuff, you know? Like kids and junk. I mean, I was getting promoted really quickly at work, so we weren't too worried about money, but I didn't think I'd have enough time to be at home for any baby and keep my job—even though Aerith wanted a kid."

"But then Gramps called and told me that Chrissie and Nicky had died in the plane crash and left you alone, and the funeral was that same day."

Cloud smiled, a sad, wistful smile. It was the only time he had ever seen Aerith wearing black.

"We had to rush to make it on such short notice, but eventually we got to the cemetery—and there you were, fifteen and standing in a corner by yourself as they buried your parents. You looked lost, Cloud. Really, really lost—you made Aerith cry, did you know that?"

The blonde shook his head.

"Well, you did. Anyway, as soon as the whole thing was over I called Gramps back. He said that they were looking for someone to take care of you, and I didn't want my cousin going to any orphanage. So we talked about it, Aer and I, and got a lawyer and shit...and here you are."

The man stopped to gather his thoughts, and Cloud shifted positions, his legs beginning to fall asleep.

"So yeah. We didn't adopt you because we didn't want to be another set of parents. I mean, I was the one who shoved handfuls of sand down your pants at the beach when we were younger and watched you run around screaming—it would be sort of creepy being your dad after that, right?"

Cloud winced at the memory. The feeling was not a pleasant one.

"And that's why after you turned 16, we stopped telling you what to do. Sure, we watched to make sure you weren't doing drugs and stuff like that, but we never told you that you couldn't do what you wanted—within reason. You've always been mature for your age, even since we were little together. But...we're still your guardians, Aerith and me. And we're kinda worried about this Reno business—"

"Zack, everything is fine. I don't know why everyone is getting all worked up about it."

"Cloud." Zack's voice was a dead monotone.

"Yes?"

"He had you in a dress."

"_Why_ does everyone keep bringing that _up_?"

"Spike—it's not the dress itself, you have to understand that. I wouldn't mind if you woke up one morning and came down to breakfast in Aerith's clothing as long as you were happy doing it. But I saw the footage of the banquet that the news aired—I saw you with him, talking to all those people, and I saw you fighting. And I didn't see happy until you started fighting."

He remained silent.

"You're not happy, Spike."

"Yes, I _am_—"

"Then look me in the eye and tell me that you're happy."

"...I..."

"_**And you and I, there's a new land...angels in flight...a sanctuary, my sanctuary, where fears and lies—"**_

Cloud snapped his phone open at the familiar ringtone, guilty relief sending slight shudders through his body. "Hello?"

"I'm outside, yo. Come down."

Click.

"I have to go, Zack," the blonde said, picking up his bag and getting up, wincing as pins and needles pricked at his legs.

"Enjoy your weekend, Spike. And...think about what I said, ne?"

"Whatever."

Unnerved as he was, he gave the violet-eyed man a kiss on the cheek before tramping down the stairs. Zack watched him go, hoping that he would stay safe. He smiled as a familiar brunette poked her head into the doorway, wearing an inquisitive expression.

"So, how did it go?"

Getting up and walking towards her, he buried his face in her hair and inhaled the scent of lilies, the familiar softness calming him somewhat.

"I don't know, Aerith. I just don't know."

* * *

"_This _is where we're staying?"

Personally, Roxas thought that Sora pulled off the goldfish expression quite well, if it wasn't for the dangerous side effect of fly-catching. So, living up to his ominous and life-threatening duties as Sora's lover and protector, he selflessly performed the risky procedure known as mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Needless to say, it worked.

As the brunette dumped his bag on the floor and excitedly began to explore the nooks and crannies of their hotel room, Roxas took a moment to pat himself on the back. Sora seemed truly happy here, as he bounced around, picking up things for inspection before putting them down and moving on to the next thing that caught his fancy. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Sora so happy...

Something precious inside of Sora—some hidden strength that the smaller twin probably didn't know he possessed—had slowly been slipping away. These months since that hot, sticky July night where their love had crossed a boundary and taken on a new facet had been hard on Roxas too—watching Sora deal with bigger and bigger obstacles and picking him up when he fell. There was so much _stuff_ weighing down their relationship despite its newness, like a shoe that had been broken in too quickly. Sometimes...he hated to admit it, but sometimes it felt like they were little more than brothers with benefits.

He knew it wasn't Sora's fault, nor was it his. He just hoped that they'd be able to use the time this weekend to reconnect a link that he'd just realized was broken.

"Three munny for your thoughts, Roxas?"

"Hmm?"

"You looked kinda spacey for a minute there. Are you alright?" the smaller one asked, brows knitted in worry. Instead of a reply, he simply pulled Sora closer, inhaling the scent of rain, fresh paper, and spice that made up his lover.

"Could...you do me a favor, Sora?"

"Anything."

"Can you not think of me as your brother? I mean...just for a weekend?"

The brunette squeezed him, gentle but firm. "Sure, if that's what you want. So, what's the plan for today?"

Pleasantly surprised that his lover hadn't asked for a reason, he kissed him on the cheek and flopped onto the king sized bed. "I was thinking a night in, actually."

"Really now?"

"Yeah. I mean, tomorrow we can go out and stuff, but maybe room service and a movie?"

"I'd like that. And then maybe," there was a hint of mischief dancing in those azure eyes, "We could break in the bed."

A spark of heat flared in Roxas' stomach and networked rapidly throughout his body, burning his nerve endings as it seared a blazing path to his core. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I mean, look at the _size_ of it." Leisurely, Sora made his way across the room, jumping on the bed beside him and dangling his legs off the edge. "It's fucking _huge_. Almost impractical, how _big_ it is."

The blonde suppressed a moan as the brunette stretched out on the duvet, clearly exaggerated noises of satisfaction welling from his throat. "Ooh, this feels nice. Silk and crushed velvet. How very...sensual, don't you think?"

Roxas swore to _god_ that if Sora kept saying those things—he barely realized that his own hand had wandered between his legs as he watched Sora contort himself. His eyes were wide and glazed clear blue, pouty pink lips curled into a smirk, shirt riding up to expose a strip of pale skin that just _begged_ to be touched. "All this space, baby. A lot of extra room to _try new things_, don't you think—_mmph_—"

Finally, Roxas lost it.

The two didn't get to that movie until much, much later.

* * *

He'd made the preparations. He'd bought the supplies. He'd informed the right people. He'd schemed, planned, plotted, and arranged. He had play-by-play books, backup plans, and strategies for every possible avenue. The operation had been planned with the precision of a general going to war, and all the factions were in place. He was ready. He was prepared. He would go to all costs, display the ultimate strength, push himself to his greatest limits...

...to press the call button.

_Haven't I been here before? _He thought sarcastically as he stared at those evil ten digits, illuminated by the backlight of the phone.

_And see how well it turned out last time? Just press the goddamn button, we don't have all day!_

Rolling his eyes, he hit the green decal and put the phone to his ear, listening as it connected and began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Saïx. It's Xemnas."

"So says the caller ID," the bluenette said dryly, his melodious voice invoking familiar reactions inside of the silver-haired boy.

"Ha. Ha. Listen, um, about the date..."

"Yes?" There was a hint of hesitancy in Saïx's voice.

"Are you busy tomorrow night?"

"...I have no plans, no. Why?"

Xemnas took a deep breath. "Would you do me the honor of taking you out for dinner?"

"Really, now?" The bluenette sounded bewildered and trying to cover it up, but it was all over his voice. The silver-haired teen couldn't help but smile. Saïx could be so cute sometimes.

"Yes." And before he lost his nerve, he added, "I like you a lot, Saïx. And I just want one ni—evening with you."

_Oh god, please don't notice that, please don't notice that..._

"You won't try anything?"

"Nothing you don't want," he breathed out, inwardly kicking himself for the slipup. He didn't want the blue-haired boy to get ideas about his intentions. "I promise."

There was quiet on the other line for a few minutes, and he hoped he hadn't screwed up too badly—

"Fine. I'll go. I did promise, after all."

He smiled widely, happy that Saïx couldn't see it. He had a reputation to hold up, after all. "Great! I'll pick you up at seven, then?"

"Seven is fine."

"Good. You won't regret this, I promise."

"...good luck proving that."

Click.

* * *

The dial tone droned in Saïx's ear for a full minute before he dully snapped his phone shut. "I want to know what the hell his game is..."

"Going somewhere?" A voice leered over his shoulder.

"_Damn it, Zexion, don't do that!_"

Zexion leaned against the counter, smirking and munching on an apple as Saïx tried to slow his racing heart. "I heard you making plans. Going somewhere?"

"I have a date tomorrow night," the bluenette said, feeling oddly daring. His brother looked like he was in a good mood. One periwinkle eyebrow raised in slight surprise.

"Funny, that. Because I do too."

"Really?"

_...since when does he date?_

"Yes. And the shirt I want to wear isn't clean. So, I'll overlook the fact that you didn't ask me for _permission_ to go on any date if you do my laundry. Clear?"

He sighed. Honestly, he should have expected something like that. Zexion looked way too happy. "Crystal."

"I'm glad we have an understanding." He tossed the apple into the trash. "Oh, and if you see something you like, I'll be nice and let you borrow it. Your clothes suck."

Zexion tramped up the stairs, Saïx staring after him, well and truly baffled.

_Seriously, what's up with him?_

* * *

He set the tray down on the bedside table, running a gloved hand through his brother's hair.

"Kadaj, how are you feeling?"

No response.

He was worried about the teenager. Both of them were. Kadaj had slept all of yesterday, awoken, and hadn't touched the food that they brought him—not even the bubble tea that he adored so much. He wouldn't let them turn on the lights, and wouldn't let them dress him. He simply lay in bed, staring at the walls, and it was chipping at both the medic and the brotherly sides of Yazoo. This wasn't like Kadaj—usually, the youngest would have been active by now...

_Damn you, Nii-san. Damn you to hell._

Loz wasn't much better. He wouldn't leave Kadaj's bedside, absentmindedly toying with the younger boy's covers and also staring into space. Apathy was like poison in his gaze—guilt and hurt mixed to form a brew more potent than any absinthe in those emerald eyes. The two painted a pitiful picture, such that it almost drove the oldest to tears.

"Little one, you must eat something."

No response.

"Kadaj—"

"Go away."

He speaks. Ah, progress.

"I brought you your favorite bubble tea—don't you want some?"

"I'm not hungry."

Yazoo shot Loz a pleading glance.

"Look..." the middle child started awkwardly, never knowing what to say in such a situation, "You have to eat eventually. Or else you won't get better. You want to get better, don't you?"

No response.

Alarmed, they looked at each other. He felt the beginnings of panic stir within him as Kadaj kept his silence.

"You _do _want to get better, don't you, Kadaj?" Loz pressed, anxious.

No response. _Oh god no, no, not this...never this..._

This had never happened before. Sure, this wasn't the first time Nii-san had demanded payment for their mistakes in the form of their youngest, but Kadaj usually slept for a day or so and then woke up—talking and eating and ready to go back to work. But it had never reached this point. He felt the level of panic escalate and he cast about for something, anything to say.

"Kadaj, don't—"

"What do you want from me, Yazoo?" The teen suddenly burst out, tears of frustration shimmering in his grass green eyes. "Do you want me to lie to you about it? Because I'm not going to! I'm _tired, _brother. I'm tired of killing innocent people for a purpose that I don't even understand. I'm tired of seeing my siblings work themselves to death, trying to be perfect for someone who doesn't appreciate it. I'm tired of being ordered around by a crazy, pedophilic man who likes to hurt me for his own amusement. I don't _want_ to be hurt anymore, Yazoo." Kadaj's small arms came to wrap around himself, tears escaping from their tortured prison. "I don't want this to continue."

A frosty, sick misery struck at the deepest parts of Yazoo's heart, and silently he began to remove his clothes, leaving them in an untidy pile on the floor. He slipped into bed with Kadaj, gathering the boy into his arms and letting him sob—frigid, unwelcome understanding bleeding into him and blurring his vision. A stronger pair of arms encircled them both, and then Loz was there, silently offering comfort.

He rained kisses on his little brother's cheeks, tasting his tears and knowing that at this moment, words could do nothing. Their youngest was finally broken, lost in a cold and unforgiving world that didn't want him. And all because of the man who lived upstairs, the one who had captured their hearts with his promises and then shattered them, laughing as they clattered to the floor—piece by shivering piece.

They were all each other had. It had never been this obvious.

Yazoo didn't realize that he was crying too until Loz's large hands caressed his face, smudging the salty trails that had gathered there. Kadaj's face was buried in the damp skin of his neck, his body shaking and quivering with the force of his cries.

"I can't..."

"Please don't do this, Kadaj."

"I don't want to stay, Yazoo. I can't do this." He clung even tighter, a contradiction to his words as Yazoo rocked the teen back and forth. "I don't have a reason—"

"I'm in love with you, little brother."

He realized this was true as soon as the impulsive words escaped from his mouth, unidentified feelings that had been lurking deep down somewhere making their presence known. He already knew how he felt for Loz, and what Loz felt for him, but Kadaj...

His youthfulness always made Yazoo see him as innocent. Like the white, gleaming snow, something pure until tainted by the ghosts of fingertips. But that innocence was gone, long gone, broken and bloodied between harsh hands and dark wood—so what was to stop him from giving what their youngest needed so badly?

They were all he had, after all.

A quick glance into expressive jade eyes—so much like his own—told him that Loz felt the same way.

"We're in love with you, little brother. That's reason enough, don't you think?"

Kadaj's eyes were wide and disbelieving, a small shred of something good slowing his tears. "You don't mean that."

Loz's hold tightened in reassurance, and the oldest smiled. "I do."

"Yazoo...I..."

"Don't think about that now." He was surprised when the silent Loz decided to speak up, drawing the covers over the three of them. "Sleep. You need it."

"Will you be here when I get up?" Kadaj asked as he lay down, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes.

"Yes." He ran a reassuring hand up and down Kadaj's arm.

Loz stared at him over their brother's head, cradling the teen protectively to his chest as the youngest slowly drifted off. "You never told me you loved him."

He couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. "I didn't recognize it for what it was, I guess. And you never told me, either."

The middle child smiled.

"You've been taking care of him." He gestured to the sleeping boy. "You need sleep, too."

"I know...but I can't help thinking that maybe I shouldn't have dropped that bombshell on him, not just yet."

"Well, at least he'll stay alive long enough to find out if you meant it."

And with that, Loz closed his eyes.

Mildly shocked at his brother's morbid words, he lay down next to his brothers, throwing an arm over Kadaj's lithe frame as slumber took him over.

_For hurting my brothers, especially Kadaj—maybe not now, but you will pay for this if it's the last thing you ever do. I love them, and I won't have you hurting my family. This will end soon..._

_Sephiroth._


	15. XIV: The Second Round

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language, Citrus **

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.**

**A/N: I am SO SORRY for the wait - I caught a bad case of writer's block and it just wouldn't go away. It was like trying to swim through syrup; it's my beta and my beta alone that got me up again. I love her so much. -huggles-**

**So, down to business:**

**1 munny 1 penny**

**100 munny 1 dollar**

**And so on and so forth. Which means that 2000 munny would be like $20, just so everyone is clear.**

**You'll find out the song that was playing in a later chapter. Rufus isn't crushing on Cloud, in case anyone mistakes one of his statements. Awkward moments, underage clubbing, stolen kisses, and red wine are all in this chapter. Sounds decadent, ne? Oh, and a cat named Marmalade. You wouldn't believe who owns her. **

**Again, I'm sorry for the delay. Please review, and enjoy!**

* * *

**XIV: The Second Round**

Amazingly enough, Roxas hadn't been lying when he said that he knew The East Side of Traverse Town very well. His blonde lover was the reason that they were even in this club—Roxas somehow knew the bouncer, a guy named Wakka with an accent and hair that mindfucked gravity. He'd seemed friendly enough, though, and "pretended" to overlook the fact that they were four years underage and had skipped the whole line.

Needless to say, the patrons weren't too happy about that.

The music was loud, fast, and seductive, peaking and waning and peaking again until the heat of the crowd under its control reached a fevered pitch. There was a male voice singing, his voice low and undeniably sexy through the vibrations of the speakers. He didn't recognize the song, but apparently Roxas did, if the smile on his face was anything to go by.

"Hey, do you wanna dance?"

"Um..."

Sensing what was wrong, he planted a quick kiss on the brunette's lips. "Don't worry about that. Just go with the music, okay?"

"...alright."

He was taken by the hand and led into the fray, the strobe lights flashing in dizzy circles around the grinding, writhing, and thrusting crowd. The music continued to play, the guitars and crashing symbols blending together to make a heady rhythm. He was enclosed in Roxas' arms, his lover's face buried in his neck, their legs intertwined. The blonde had been right—he found himself bouncing to the upbeat tone, and the slight claustrophobic feel of the dance floor began to slip away. He liked this song, it was fun and energetic, despite the fact that the lyrics were so perverted. It was kind of sexy...and he couldn't remember a male voice that wasn't Roxas' ever affecting him this much...

The guitar was loud and powerful, flying through the notes as it was manipulated by invisibly skilled fingers. It seemed to aggravate Roxas more as his movements became more frantic, his hand gripping Sora firmly around the waist as they moved faster together. He felt like a puppet—his lover had arranged him _exactly_ where he wanted him and practically commanded he stay put. He'd never seen the blonde like this. Never.

Sure, Roxas was seme (as much as it killed his ego to admit it) but he had never been so...well...dominant about it. There wasn't an inch of blessed space between them—and Sora liked it. He liked it a hell of a lot—this harsher, almost feral side of his normally gentle twin that he'd only glimpsed before was a fucking turn on.

Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it was because they were surrounded by people who had committed greater sins than loving a person of the same bloodline...

...or maybe it was just the goddamn music.

_No, really? _

_You—shut up._

The final verse made him shudder with want as Roxas tried to draw him even nearer. The blonde's leg crossed with his was causing the most delicious friction on his cock, and he couldn't help but let out a soft whimper. Still, he didn't want to end up coming—the tight-as-hell jeans that Roxas had coerced him into wearing were no help at all in that department.

"Um, maybe we should take a break..."

"What?" Roxas yelled over the noise.

"I said, maybe we should take a break!"

"I can't hear you, Sora!"

Exasperated, he led them off the dance floor and into one of the tables he had seen in the corner. It was darker and less noisy in this section of the club, and people were casually scattered, drinking and talking to friends.

"Much better," he said, offering the blonde a smile, catching his breath. They took a moment to watch the crowd that they had just been a part of, the lights and smoky air creating an ethereal cover over the dancers.

"Are you having a good time?" Inquisitive and slightly worried blue eyes stared into his own.

"Of course!" Sora smiled brightly. "I never thought it would be this much fun. My movements were kinda restricted, though," he teased, watching in satisfaction as an embarrassed flush spread over Roxas' cheeks.

"Er...sorry about that." The blonde looked sheepish.

"No, it's fine. Actually," Sora's voice gained a slight purr. "I was enjoying it."

"Really?" Roxas leaned closer to him, azure eyes blazing with that familiar _something _that had been lingering in them all night. "Then why did you stop?"

Sora gave an innocent smile, an expression that was fitting on his cherubic face, moving closer to whisper in his lover's ear. What came out of his mouth, however, was definitely not angelic.

"Because when I come, I want you to be driving into me so hard it hurts. I want to feel your nails biting into my hips, I want your cock tapping my spot and your fingers in my mouth. I want warm cum all over you so I can lick it off later. I want you to fuck me, Roxas," he nipped at the blonde's earlobe. "Thoroughly."

Silence.

"So, you're ready to go?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

His slippers made padding noises as he traversed the Shinra mansion, in search of Reno. After a day of mindless fucking—somewhere along the line "making love" had stopped applying—he had fallen asleep. Now, Reno was nowhere to be found. 

_You should have expected that by now, you know._

_But he's my boyfriend..._

_And it's Saturday night. Which means he's out drinking. _

_But—_

_He's been banging you all day. Wise up— there's no need for him to stay home._

A sharp pang of hurt pierced his chest at the voice's harsh words. _Even my own mind is against this...maybe coming here was a mistake..._

_You're just figuring that out now?_

"Cloud?"

A familiar voice wafted over to him, and he turned to find a young executive standing there, watching him curiously.

"Rufus? What are you doing here?"

The older blonde chuckled. "I happen to live here, you know. What are you doing here?"

"Um..." Cloud felt like a total idiot. This _was_ the Shinra Mansion, after all... " Reno invited me for the weekend."

"Oh, really?" The older blonde raised an eyebrow. "Then where is my wayward nephew? Surely he wouldn't have left such captivating company to languish alone?"

"I don't know where he is...I was trying to find him, actually." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly nervous. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you—"

"It's quite alright. I wasn't doing anything of particular interest anyway. So, if you're alone, and I'm alone, why don't we be alone together?"

Cloud smiled at hearing one of his favorite songs. "I didn't know you liked the Pink Spiders."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Cloud. Would you join me for a drink?"

Rufus' study was...beautiful, to say the least. It wasn't cramped, yet wasn't overly large at the same time. The walls were done in royal blue with a bronze trimming along the edges, and all the furniture was a dark cherry wood. A fire crackled and popped cheerfully in the antique fireplace, and a blonde eyebrow rose at the sight of a chilling bottle of Pinot Noir and two wineglasses.

"Well, someone was awful confident."

Rufus smiled coyly. "Call it intuition."

The large armchair felt like heaven to his aching legs as Cloud sat down with a tired sigh. Accepting the filled glass, he sipped at it cautiously, inhaling the faint scent of strawberries.

"Had a rough day?" Gray eyes regarded him, wry apology lingering in their depths.

"My god, you have no idea."

"I thought you would have enjoyed your stay here...?"

Cloud recognized a prod for info when he saw one, but he couldn't really fault Rufus' curiosity. The executive was probably bored and lonely, anyway. "I thought so too, it's just..." He sighed again. "Nothing. I'm being stupid."

"Hmm..." The older blonde chewed his lip in thought, and Cloud couldn't help but stare. It wasn't often one saw Rufus Shinra doing something so...human. "Perhaps not as much as you think you are, no?"

And with that cryptic comment, the executive changed the subject.

"I admit to being concerned about your disappearing act after the explosion, Cloud. Might I ask what happened?"

Memories rushed back to him at the inquiry. "I was knocked unconscious. I woke up at Vin—Dr. Valentine's house. Apparently, I wound up close to him when I was thrown across the room and he knew the press would be after me. He called my guardians to come get me."

"Hmm..." Concern flickered in those stormy depths as Rufus considered the story. "Are you sure nothing...untoward happened during your stay at the good doctor's home?"

He felt a slight flush cover his face and a flicker of heat under his skin as he thought of Vincent, but quickly willed them away, hoping that Rufus didn't see. He didn't want the executive thinking that the doctor was a rapist. "No, nothing like that happened. He was very professional about the whole thing...you know, your obsession with my sex life is starting to creep me out."

Rufus only smiled, but his eyes showed sadness. "I only want to be ensured of your well-being, especially with the news floating around...I am truly sorry, Cloud. I tried my best to keep them from printing that article, but there were too many witnesses to silence them all."

"It's okay—"

"No, it's _not_." The younger blonde was startled by the sudden intensity emanating from Rufus, not expecting the level of fervency that was in the older man's eyes. "My little sister possibly owes you her life, and with my nephew acting the way he is—"

"What do you mean by that?" he snapped, his temper flaring.

"There is no need to hide from me. Reno is hurting you. It is obvious to anyone who cares to look."

"That—that is not true!" He couldn't help but falter, Zack's words flittering across his mind like a parade of black butterflies. "He's your nephew, why would you say something like that?"

"Because I care about you."

Cloud blinked.

_Wasn't expecting that._

"Ever since I first recognized you as yourself, you've been a very good friend, despite my...status." The older blonde fingered his glass, staring into the crimson liquid as if it held the answers to all life, earlier energy replaced by weariness. "You saved my sister, Cloud. I don't think anyone realizes how much Scarlet means to me."

Vaguely, he realized that he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Shinra heiress since his arrival—not that he'd exactly been touring the house. "Where is she, anyway?"

"She is staying with a friend for the weekend—"

Suddenly, there was a loud bang downstairs, followed by a long string of curses. Rufus finished up his wine and gestured to the door, Reno's voice echoing up the stairs. "You'd better go help him before he hurts himself."

Downing his own glass, he winced at the rush of flavor that assaulted his mouth and stood. "It was nice talking to you, Rufus."

"Likewise. Feel free to visit anytime you like—oh, and Cloud?"

He paused at the doorway and turned. "Yes?"

"Think about I said?"

"...okay."

* * *

"So...uh...what are your hobbies?" 

When Xemnas asked Saïx to go on a date with him, this wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

Sure, it had started off nicely—he had successfully filched the keys to his dad's Mercedes and had pulled up to the bluenette's house at exactly seven o'clock. Freshly washed and coiffed and with his heart trembling, he had rung the doorbell—and come face to face with one Zexion Delune.

The man had taken once look at him and yelled up the stairs, "Shorty, your fucktoy is here!"

_Uh, what?_

Face an angry red, Saïx had come downstairs. The blue-haired boy looked stunning—black jeans, a misty gray button down with the top button undone and a black vest over it. Combat boots and fingerless gloves completed the ensemble, and Xemnas was pretty sure he was drooling. Either that, or it was rather obvious how _happy _he was to see Saïx...

"Now, little brother," Zexion was saying, tossing and catching a little foil square...

_Are you fucking serious?_

"I want you to take this and _use it, _okay? Protection is always essential, I don't want you getting AIDS—"

"_Zexion, this is the first date!"_

"What's your point?"

"I don't think I'll be _needing_ that, is my point!"

"Hey, you—" The man turned to him. "Make sure to use lube, it's just the two of us here and he can't be limping around—"

"_Goodbye, Zexion!"_

Consequently, the ride to the restaurant had been the most awkward twenty minutes of Xemnas' life—Saïx still hadn't said a word, and he was still tomato red, something the silver-haired teen was sure he'd never see again. Which was why he'd asked a question—one of the lamest questions you could possibly ask on a date, but he couldn't _stand _the silence. It was making him antsy.

_It was so not supposed to go like this..._

"I like astronomy."

Silence.

"Um, really?"

"Good afternoon," Xemnas almost cried with relief as the maitre d' walked up—and then did a double take. "My name is Leon, and I will be your waiter this evening—"

_Wait a minute..._"Don't you go to our—Squall Leonheart?"

"It's _Leon,_" The other boy hissed, placing a basket of breadsticks on the table. "Yes, I go to your school, and yes, I work here."

Xemnas could see the disbelief and panic beginning to form in Saïx's eyes. Obviously, the bluenette didn't want anyone from school to find out that they were on a date. The silver-haired teen felt an unfamiliar pang of hurt, but quickly pushed it away. "Listen, Leonheart," he said venomously, wanting to get his point across, "If I find out that you told anyone about this—"

"I do not particularly care what you get up to on the weekend, Lorac," the brunette cut him off. "And I wouldn't say anything. It's unprofessional. Now," he said, smoothly changing personas, "are you ready to order?"

Despite the fact that he had seen Leon hanging out with that little blonde fairy, he felt his respect for the other boy raise .001 percent. Making a mental note to leave a nice tip, they placed their orders.

"Very good. I will be back shortly."

"Well, that was unexpected," he said, smiling nervously. "So, uh...you like astronomy?"

"Listen, Xemnas," the teen said suddenly, sighing. "I'm sorry about how my brother was acting, he shouldn't have said those things to you. It's not your fault—Zexion's kind of an asshole."

"I can see that."

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Well...this is awkward."

"Yes. Yes it is."

And then he heard something. Something astonishing. Something that he never thought would come from the frigid, icy silhouette that haunted his dreams, a sound garnished by the tinkling of angel bells.

Saïx _giggled._

An honest-to-God giggle.

It sounded nervous as hell, and the blue-haired boy didn't realize what had slipped out of his mouth until point oh-oh-two seconds after it happened. Amber eyes widened in utter mortification, a pale hand twitched with the compulsion to place itself over its owner's mouth.

In short, he looked traumatized.

_Am I a lovesick idiot for thinking that was cute?_

"Saïx, did you just _giggle_?"

"No."

"Then what was that?"

"What was what?"

"What you just did."

"I didn't do anything."

"You _giggled_."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"Are you putting sounds in my mouth, Xemnas?"

_Oh, you don't know what I'd like to put in your mouth—_

Xemnas barely noticed when Leon placed their food on the table—he was too busy watching Saïx's nose scrunch in frustration and his cheeks pink as he tried to deny the claim. Inwardly, he couldn't help but cheer—the bluenette looked much calmer now than he had during their coffee date and the brief ride to school. _I wonder why he's always so wound up..._

He watched the blue-haired boy eat, his movements graceful and fluid as he twirled pasta on a fork. "You seem so different tonight," he said softly, almost to himself, admiring the dexterity of his date's fingers and the way his hair seemed to shine when the light caught the cerulean tendrils...

"Did you say something?"

"Hmm?" It was only after the bluenette spoke that he realized that he'd been staring and not touching his own plate. Smiling at his date, he repeated his statement. "Yeah...you're different tonight."

He immediately regretted saying anything; Saïx's shoulders immediately tensed and nervousness flickered in his Egyptian-gold eyes. "Really?" he said, but his tone was guarded.

Quickly, he hastened to reassure his date. "I didn't mean it in a bad way or anything...I just..." he sighed, not knowing how to continue. "You seem...more relaxed. Calmer, if anything."

Teasingly, he added, "Is it me?"

"Don't give yourself too much credit, Lorac," the bluenette immediately bit back, a hint of a familiar attitude and a rare smile curling at the ends of his mouth. Then in a voice so quiet that the silver-haired teen had to strain to hear it, he added, "I guess I'm just used to you now..."

A golden gaze stared out of the window at the flicking shards in the navy blue sky, and a contemplative silence fell over the two as they ate—different and much more comfortable than the earlier awkwardness. Xemnas felt the lingering strains of hurt and uncertainty immediately vanish at Saïx's words, knowing now that he hadn't done anything wrong. The bluenette simply didn't trust easy, that was all...no matter, he always did enjoy a good challenge...

However, one incident stood out in his mind, and his curiosity wouldn't let him leave it alone. "Saïx, if you don't mind me asking...what happened with you last week? At the café?"

Saïx seemed surprised at the question and a light redness dusted his face again, though Xemnas was sure it was embarrassment at his outburst than anything else. "Oh. I'm sorry about that. I hope I didn't frighten you, I just—it's hard to explain. I'm sorry."

"Did you...think I was going to hurt you?"

"It's not you, okay?" The bluenette insisted. "I...I like you. And no, I didn't think that."

"Then—"

"_Ce n'est pas grave, _Xemnas. Please, can we not talk about this?"

God, what Xemnas wouldn't give to find all of those walls and tear them down—every last one. He hated not knowing what was wrong with the person he loved, but if Saïx said that he didn't want to talk about it, then fine. They wouldn't talk about it. "Of course. So, you said you liked astronomy..."

Their conversation was light, yet interesting, and carried them through dessert. Xemnas had never told anyone so much about himself—about his friends, about his family, about his _life_. And Saïx _listened_, actually listened, instead of going through the motions—the silver-haired teen had been worried that maybe he was talking too _much_, but the bluenette had simply waved him on. So he kept talking. And when he had finished, long after his ignored ice cream had melted, long after his date's own dessert was gone, Saïx had merely smiled and said, "I never took you for a cat person, Xemnas."

He was so in love.

"Marmalade is not a mere _cat,_ Saïx," he said, sniffing. "Marmalade is a marvel of intelligence and grace. She was bred of sophistication and elegance, she is beautiful and she is to be treated as such."

"She is a _cat_."

"Screw _you_, Saïx..."

He tossed 2000 munny on their table for Leon after picking up their check, and they left the restaurant. Slowly, he inched the car to the blue-haired boy's house, making sure to take the long way as they talked. Regrettably, they eventually arrived at the dark structure—Xemnas guessed that Saïx's brother wasn't home. Well, all the better for him—earlier's incident was still stuck in his mind and the last thing he wanted was a repeat.

He walked Saïx to his door and then stopped. "I...wanted to say thanks for letting me take you out tonight."

"You're welcome. I enjoyed myself, as well."

Silence.

Nervous, he stared into those golden irises, seeing uncharacteristic warmth and curiosity looking back at him. It calmed him somewhat, and he began to speak, trying his best not to stutter. "Saïx...ever since our project, I've developed feelings for you. This whole thing I'm doing..." he indicated the two of them with a wave of his hand. "This isn't like me. At all. And that's how I know that what I'm feeling isn't going to go away anytime soon."

He took a deep breath, knowing that he was past the point of no return. He _had _to say this, tonight had been like a dream and he wasn't even going to deny it. He wanted more. "Is there...any possibility that you'd let me have a relationship with you?"

"Xemnas—look. I...I do like you—probably not as much as you like me, but I do. The thing is..."

Xemnas knew what Saïx was going to say before he said it; apology was already written in those aureate eyes. He took some small comfort in the fact that his feelings were returned, trying to ward off the chill that threatened to freeze his heart at the obvious rejection.

"...I don't think I'm ready for that type of intimacy. With anyone."

"...oh."

"That's not to say, though," Saïx continued quickly, "That you did anything wrong. I really had a nice time tonight."

"It's okay, Saïx," he said, wanting to stop the bluenette's rambling—it was kind of scary to watch. It hadn't been his intention to knock Saïx _this_ off kilter.

"I'm really sorry about this, Xemnas," the teen finished.

"Really, it's okay. I can...still see you sometimes, right?"

"Of course. I said I didn't want a relationship right now, I didn't say never to talk to me again. I do return your feelings, in case you weren't listening."

Xemnas smiled.

"I'll wait for you."

"You don't have to do that. It's not really fair."

"No." Gently, achingly, trembling with the thought that Saïx would be angry and would push him away, he pressed his lips to the other boy's. It was a ghost of a touch, Saïx's lips were slightly chapped and unresponsive with surprise; his eyes were awash with colorless emotion like water on a paintbrush when Xemnas pulled away.

"I told you, I don't do stuff like this often. You mean very much to me, I'm not going to give up so easily."

"Good to know." The bluenette smiled a shaky smile, still in shock from the sudden kiss, and there was quiet for a little while.

Eventually, he motioned to the door. "It's getting late, perhaps you should go inside."

"Indeed."

Saïx didn't move.

Suddenly, lips were on his again, a sad, lingering sweetness in them that left him without breath, with the knowledge that there wasn't a more bittersweet bliss than this. There was a taste of cinnamon and regrets on the bluenette's tongue, and Xemnas pulled him closer, not knowing how long it would be before he would taste it again. Eventually, Saïx let him go and unlocked his door, giving him a final smile.

"Goodnight, Xemnas."

"...goodnight."

* * *

**End Notes: "Ce n'est pas grave"means "It's not serious" or "It's nothing".**


	16. XV: Touching Through You

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language, Implied Citrus **

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot and to the characters Yashiro Akiyama, Isabella Akiyama, and Chantilly Leonhart.**

**A/N: Eh, here we go, counting down the days until Christmas! I wish it were Christmas instead of muggy July, the heat wave in New York is murder...anyway, ticklish seniors, gym class ogling, father!Zack, and repeated mentions of masturbation (in Leon's words, anyway) are all in this chapter. **

**According to Wikipedia, I've been spelling Leon/Squall's last name wrong - as "Leonheart" instead of "Leonhart". I acknowledge that a lot of people didn't even notice until my mention, but I guess it's my perfectionist tendencies kicking in...I'll be sure to use the right spelling from now on. **

**I don't know how many people actually bother to read the author's notes, but you might have noticed the new OC I tacked onto the end of the disclaimer. Chantilly only gets a mention in this chapter, but she will play a bigger role in the Christmas update! **

**Oh, and the macaroni and cheese with barbecue sauce thing...tried it. Loved it. Had it every day for two weeks straight in school. Really, the stuff is addictive. I encourage you all to indulge. **

**Please review, and enjoy! **

* * *

**XV: Touching Through You **

**

* * *

**

**Monday**

* * *

Sora was in a rather good mood when he walked into the school Monday morning. Really, who wouldn't be, after having the weekend he'd had? Saturday night had been awesome—he'd gone out dancing with his lover, and then had the wildest, most mind-blowing sex of his life. He couldn't recall the last time he'd ever felt so out of control—and loved every minute. Sure, the welts on his ass stung every time he sat down and his wrists were pink from Roxas' vice grip, but what was a little pain compared to four Earth-shattering orgasms?

Yes, Sora was in a good mood.

Sunday had been much calmer. They'd avoided the neon lights and taken a walk in the park, the snow and lights making it resemble a winter wonderland. And Roxas had been right—no one stared at the twins as they walked hand-in-hand down the pathways, stopping every few feet to share kisses and quiet conversation. Later, they'd gone back to their room and laid together on the bed, enjoying the comfortable silence and each other's company before they had to start the drive back to Hollow Bastion.

Physics didn't even seem as daunting now as he cheerfully gathered his books, shaking the latest dusts of snow off his jacket and hanging it in his locker. Idly, he thought, _I haven't seen Cloud in a while. Maybe I should stop by his locker?_

Mind made up, he clicked the lock closed around the metal loop and pranced his way down the hallway in search of the blonde senior. Sure enough, the familiar head of blonde spikes was buried in his locker, and didn't notice the pale fingers creeping around his waist until—

"_Motherfucker!"_

Sora barely noticed the senior glaring at him ruefully as he doubled up in laughter at the loud yell, Mr. Rodney giving them both suspicious looks as he passed. Cloud had jumped a good foot into the air at the small tickle, but the frown soon melted into a wan smile. The brunette soon calmed down, and felt the first stirrings of concern inside of him as he gave the blonde a once-over.

Cloud looked...exhausted, was the best word for him. He had dark shadows under his red-rimmed eyes as if he hadn't slept all weekend. His clothes were slightly rumpled and his hair looked wilder than usual. Sora had seen the newspapers and heard the rumors floating around about his friend, but had been too preoccupied with his own issues to pay much attention—guilt joined the concern to form a disconcerting mix.

"Damn it, Sora, don't _do _that!"

"Aww, but it was fun!" he pouted, and inwardly cheered as Cloud's smile became more pronounced. The senior ruffled Sora's hair as he slammed his locker shut.

"Someone looks happy today," the blonde remarked.

"I spent the weekend in Traverse Town!" he chirped.

A brief flash of alarm showed in Cloud's eyes and Sora yelped as he was harshly grabbed by the shoulder. _"By yourself?"_

"I was with Roxas!"

"Oh." Cloud looked relieved, and let him go. "That's okay then. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah—wait, how come you don't get mad about Roxas being there?"

"No offense, kid, but I trust Roxas more than you."

"Hey!"

Laughing, the two began to walk down the crowded hallway, and Sora felt increasingly worse about forgetting Cloud. He had always looked up to the senior; even though the blonde was busy with schoolwork and his boyfriend, Cloud was never too busy to talk to him. The blonde looked tired though, too tired, and he couldn't help but feel slightly angry at Reno—for causing the mean things that people were saying about his friend. Who cared if Cloud was into wearing girl's clothing?

Hell, Sora wished _he_ looked that sexy in a dress.

"So, Sora—" Cloud started, but was interrupted by the loud chime of the bell. The blonde cursed loudly. "Listen, I have to go—I have gym and it's on the other side of the complex—but we'll do something together over break, okay?"

"Sure!"

With a quick squeeze to the junior's middle, Cloud was gone, lost in the crowd. Sora watched him go, and then turned to enter his Physics classroom, giving the teacher a disturbingly bright smile.

_I have to get Cloud something nice for Christmas..._

* * *

Reno was staring. He couldn't help it.

Just across the gym, his little lover was standing on one of the blue mats, talking and doing warm-ups with that girl with huge knockers—Tifa—and another, less endowed but pretty girl with shoulder-length black hair and a black headband. The three of them made quite the picture as they bent and stretched, three sets of delicious skin and softly defined lines, the regulation shorts and T-shirt leaving just enough to the imagination.

He grinned as the sight reminded him of his weekend—Cloud was certainly flexible, he thought wryly as he watched the blonde bend backwards, the white shirt riding up just enough...mmm...

" Reno," his best friend said from beside him, "If you would stop ogling my girlfriend, it would be greatly appreciated."

He shot the bald teen an indulgent smile. "No worries, partner. Hands off, yo?"

Inwardly, he rolled his eyes. Rude was just too much of a gentleman for his tastes—he groveled after Tifa like a goddamned puppy. It was almost pathetic. The chick had him picking her up and dropping her off, carrying her bags at the mall, _paying_ for said bags at the mall—_soon she'll have him changing her tampons._

He was just glad Cloud wasn't high maintenance—after all, he had left for a drink with Rude and Elena without leaving a note, come back, and the blonde hadn't said a word. He'd simply handed the redhead a glass of water and some Tylenol and left him in peace.

God, he loved that kid.

His gaze traveled across the room, and eventually landed on a silver-haired teen who was sitting by himself, doing his warm-ups in silence. _Riku. _ Reno's grin widened as he watched the senior finish, quietly sitting on his mat cross-legged and waiting for instructions. Last February had been a very good one—Cloud had been sick and Reno had been horny and Riku had been _there..._

Yes, that had been a good winter.

Reluctantly, he turned his gaze to the front as class began and the coach began to speak...

* * *

It was snowing again, Zack noted as he sat in his living room. He'd taken yet another day off from work to be with Aerith—not that it mattered, he'd accumulated so much vacation time by this point that his superiors had all but shoved him out of his office. He smiled to himself; they tended to baby him and Seph a bit too much sometimes.

His loyal Buster Sword lay in his lap; a piece of stone he had been using to sharpen it had fallen by the wayside somewhere. Over the years, the trusty sword had drunk much blood, but now it was clean and softly gleaming. He smiled down at it, feeling a bit stupid for being this affectionate with a piece of hewn metal, but it didn't seem fitting to treat the Buster any other way.

He was worried about his family.

Aerith hadn't been the same since Cloud's misdemeanors had made headline news. Sure, she still cooked and cleaned and read and practiced with her staff and sew and tended to her flowers, but there was less...heart in her actions. As if some quiet enthusiasm had left her and he hadn't noticed until now. He'd even caught the brunette crying a few times as she went about her day; the tears just seemed to fall and it was as if she didn't notice until she happened to touch her face and the skin came away wet. Even worse was that she hadn't sensed him there—feeling Zack's presence was an ability that she'd possessed since the day she'd met him.

And Cloud wasn't much better. He felt his grip on the Buster's handle tighten as he thought of his younger cousin. Cloud had gone straight up to bed after arriving from the Shinra Mansion around lunchtime on Sunday; when he'd come down for dinner Zack had to suppress a yell. The blonde looked like he hadn't slept all weekend despite the nap he'd just taken, and he walked with a slight limp. Being in the army alongside hundreds of other males with...tendencies had taught him to read the signs.

But the worst part...the life in his baby cousin was gone. He'd tried his best to reach Cloud about it, and he could only hope that the blonde had taken his words to heart. But even though that nightmare had probably spent the two days screwing Cloud's brains out—he tried his best to banish the mental images _that_ thought produced—Cloud looked mentally worse than when he'd left.

Zack's melancholy thoughts turned to the upcoming occasion. Christmas. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the holiday—the current mood in the house was numb at best, and he was sure that the usual warmth would be lacking.

_Damn you, Reno Sinclair. Damn you to hell._

His grip on the handle tightened even further, turning his knuckles a pasty white—that fucking waste of an orgasm was the reason that the two people he loved above all were hurting. He wanted nothing more than to lock Cloud in his room and forbid him to ever talk to the menace again—misplaced paternal urges, indeed—but he'd always given his cousin the freedom to carve out his own path. It wouldn't be fair to change that now, especially since the blonde would be legal in a month and a handful.

But _still_...

No. There was nothing he could do about that.

But what he _could_ do...a widening smile graced his lips, ideas rushing and blending through his head like a churning waterfall. With a yell in the kitchen's direction that he was going out, he waited for the answering reply before jamming on his boots and stepping into the frozen world.

If he couldn't make Aerith and Cloud happy by taking the blonde away from Reno, then he could damned make sure that his family had the best Christmas of their lives.

Zack Fair was on a mission.

* * *

Squall Leonhart was halfway though his mashed potatoes and gravy when he felt hands over his eyes and a weight in his lap. He would have rolled his eyes, except said eyes were obstructed by said hands, belonging to said person on his lap.

"Cloud, get off."

His vision was restored to find the blue eyes of his only true friend staring back at him as the blonde made himself comfortable across his legs, setting his bag on the ground and opening his container of macaroni and cheese. It was then he felt someone staring at him, and he didn't have to turn to know who was looking.

"Cloud?"

"Yes, Leon?" the blonde cooed as he poured liberal amounts of barbecue sauce over his lunch. Leon looked at the mixture, disgusted.

"You are aware that you have a boyfriend?"

"Yes, Leon."

"And that your boyfriend is in this room?"

"Yes, Leon."

"And that you are sitting on my lap?"

" Reno can go blow himself, Leon," the blonde said with a determined air, and the gunblader felt his eyebrow rise in surprise. Well, this was new. "You're my best friend, and if I want to sit on your lap then I'll do whatever I damn well please."

"...whatever happened to you?"

Cloud gave him a sad smile, and Leon instantly wished he could take his words back. "I had a talk with a few people," he started quietly. "I've been thinking things over, and maybe I've been letting Reno take too much control."

Leon felt the sky open up above him and hosts of angels sing _Hallelujah_.

He adjusted the blonde's position across his legs so that he could resume his own lunch and watched in morbid fascination as his friend began to shovel barbecued macaroni into his mouth at an alarming pace. "That is positively repulsive, Cloud."

"Go fuck yourself, Leon," the blonde said cheerfully.

"What's with the sudden masturbation fixation?

Sticking his tongue out—_ew—_Cloud continued to eat. Curious, Leon asked, "Who exactly did you speak to?"

"Oh, Tifa...Zack...Rufus Shinra..."

"_What the fucking hell?"_

"I stayed at the Shinra Mansion this weekend." Losing his happy exterior, Cloud put his container on the table and stared straight into his friend's eyes. Blue met gray and flashed with a deep hurt that made the gunblader's insides ache. "As soon as I arrived on Friday night, Reno took me up to his room and we had nonstop sex until the same time on Saturday."

Calloused hands found their way around his friend's waist, squeezing and encouraging the teen to continue his story. "I lost consciousness twice, Leon. As soon as I wake up the first time, he's touching me, begging me to keep going. I just wanted it to end, but it didn't end until I blacked out again. When I woke that second time, Reno was gone."

"That asshole didn't leave a note?" The brunette raged, Thursday's anger rushing back and surrounding him like a blanket.

"I found some clothes and left the room," Cloud continued, not bothering to answer his question. "I think I got lost...his uncle's mansion is fucking _huge, _ Leon. I felt so small in it; all the walls were white and all the hallways looked the same. I was about to give up when Rufus found me."

"He invited me to his study to have a drink with him...I didn't know he liked the Pink Spiders," his friend laughed softly. "And we talked...he told me that he saw what Reno was doing and that I shouldn't doubt how I felt about things because I might have been righter than I thought. And then we talked about the explosion...he told me he considered me a friend, and that he had tried his best to keep them from publishing the article—"

Cloud's voice broke. Not caring who was watching—he was sitting in a corner anyway, it wasn't like anyone could try anything without him seeing—he held his best friend close, trying his best to still the quaking in the blonde's body. "He came back _drunk_, Leon."

That did it.

Leon was going to cut that redhead's cock off and stuff it down his throat.

Cloud was one of the most precious people in Leon's life, aside from his father and his little sister, and he knew for a fact that a lot of people held his friend close to their hearts—how dare that premature ejaculation treat Cloud like that? The blonde was more than capable of kicking ass on his own, as proven to all of Hallow Bastion by the footage of his fight. But something about Reno Sinclair had torn away that whirlwind of willpower and left a shivering, shaking mess in its place.

And he was going to pay. By the gods, if he wasn't going to pay.

But first...

"Cloud, you must calm down," he said quietly, rubbing a hand up and down the blonde's back. Slowly but surely, the tremors stopped, and Cloud lay limp in his arms. "Listen—I don't want you to worry any more about this. You're right about Reno, and Zack and Tifa and...Mr. Shinra are also right. But I don't want you to stress over it, Christmas is coming and you look like you need to enjoy yourself. I will take care of everything."

" Leon, I don't like the sound of that—"

"Didn't I just say not to worry?" He said soothingly, hoping to divert attention. He wasn't exactly used to this type of thing, but apparently it worked—a small smile appeared on his friend's face as he began to eat again. _Good. Very good. I don't want him getting suspicious..._

" Leon?"

"Yes?"

"Can you come shopping with me after school?"

"...what?"

The smile grew, and he was surprised to see a slight blush coloring his friend's cheeks.

"I want to buy a present for someone..."

* * *

He couldn't help but scrunch his nose in disgust—the area was filthy, infested with rodents and litter. Most of the streetlights were broken, casting him in an unsettling darkness—the sun had already set despite the early time. Glancing down at the address written on a piece of looseleaf—transferred from its original resting place—he checked it against the building and noted in dismay that he was in the right place.

"Damn it..."

Hesitantly, he knocked on the worn wooden door, his knuckles making an imprint in the fine layer of dust over it. Now officially disgusted, he wiped the back of his hand on his jeans and made to knock again, when suddenly something on the ground caught his eye. An envelope...

...with his name on it. _What's this?_

Curious, he picked up the envelope and tore it open. Suddenly, he was coughing as the paper fell from his limp fingers and fluttered to the ground—he was enveloped in a cloud of white powder. The stuff had no smell, but it was dense and clung to him like a second skin, clogging his nose and making it hard to breathe. _Is this some kind of joke? _

"What the hell is going...on..."

And then darkness took him, and Marluxia knew no more.

* * *

**Tuesday**

* * *

"Thanks for your help, Leon, I don't know what I would do without you."

"It's no trouble, Professor."

The woman smiled at him and bid him good day as he closed the door of the chemistry lab behind him. He'd been helping Professor Aizawa three days a week after school for the past month, and had been enjoying it very much—she gave him access to all the resources he wanted in exchange for his help keeping the lab organized and the supplies replenished. AP Chem was like baking cookies to him—the elements and what to do with them just seemed to _come_. Helping her out did have some disadvantages, though, he wasn't able to follow a certain redhead after school and see what exactly he got up to...

Thinking of Reno made him think of Cloud as he walked down the hallways of the empty school. They'd had fun yesterday afternoon, although he'd been surprised at the gift that Cloud wanted to buy and who it was for. The happy smile on his friend's face had been a lovely sight to see—considering its increasing rarity, Leon thought angrily—and he'd caught the small blush on the blonde's cheeks. After buying the present, they'd gone out for sea salt ice cream, talking and hanging out like they used to before that _nightmare_ had entered the picture.

The brunette hadn't really realized how much he'd missed Cloud.

His attention was diverted from his thoughts by a faintly melodic noise coming from an adjacent hallway. _That's funny...I passed the music teacher on his way out..._Immediately curious, he followed the sound, gradually recognizing it as that of a piano. And the closer he got, the more apparent it became that whoever was playing was very skilled.

Very, very skilled.

He'd grown up hearing piano music—his little sister played, although what Chantilly did he would faster call picking than anything else. She tried, though, and their father had attempted to encourage the habit. But as his womanizing increased and his interest in his children didn't, it was up to Leon to make sure that the little girl got to lessons on time, to use his paychecks for tunings and to go to her recitals—even though they were boring as hell.

He didn't want her to grow up feeling unwanted. Look where it had gotten him.

But this person...as he stood in the open doorway, he felt his breath catch in his throat.

It was the boy he had bumped into.

His platinum locks framed his face as he bent slightly over the ivory and ebony pattern, peridot eyes flickering between the printed notes on the holder and his elegant fingers. Leon vaguely recognized the song, but it sounded different from what he remembered. Now, it held a slightly longing tone to it; as if it was reaching out for something that would soon fizzle and fade. He didn't know where it had come from—be it the composer or the puppet—but it surrounded him, gently washing away the simmering anger beneath his walls like the touches of a trickling stream.

And the person himself...the silver-haired boy had an air of sadness around him as he manipulated the instrument. It intrigued the brunette, making him wonder what was causing it, making him want to unravel all of the teenager's mysteries...

"It's you."

It was a full minute before he registered that the music had stopped and that the teen was looking directly at him, a slight frown on his face but a spark of recognition in those intense eyes.

"So it is."

"What are you doing here?"

Good question. Because really, what _was _he doing here?

"I heard the music," Leon replied, careful to keep his tone neutral.

"Interesting."

"You play well."

"I know."

There was a slight smirk in the other boy's voice, and a hint of sad pride when he spoke again, the melancholy in the pianist's tone catching the brunette's attention for the second time. "I'm practicing for the concert."

_Concert...concert..._

_Oh._

That Winter Concert crap that they held every year on Christmas Eve—and which Leon never bothered to go to. Why the hell would a student want to spend the afternoon before Christmas in _school?_ "Interesting," he said, in a direct mockery of the musician's words.

The boy smiled.

"So...what grade are you in?"

"Senior," Leon replied curtly.

"Small world."

The brunette couldn't help but blink at that—in his four years at Hollow Bastion High he could not once recall seeing the pianist until the day they had collided in the hallway. _How in hell could you miss hair like that?_

"I don't think I've ever seen you before."

The paler teen nodded, not looking offended in the least. "That's not exactly hard to believe."

Silence, as green and gray regarded each other calmly. Eventually, the pianist turned back to his instrument, flexing his fingers. "Not that this conversation hasn't been scintillating and all," he said with a slight bite, "But I have to practice."

The brunette nodded, a strange feeling that he didn't like spreading through his body as he turned again to leave. Graceful fingers touched keys again—once, twice—but then the teen drew away, and Leon couldn't help but turn back as the music ceased a second time. He was surprised to find that the senior seemed to have aged in the two seconds he'd had his back turned; that now familiar burden that plagued him when he played returned to settle on its owner's shoulders.

He wanted to know what was causing that sadness. And he wanted to know why he cared.

"...maybe I'll see you there?"

* * *

The kitchen was deserted at this time of night; his hands shook slightly as he brought the plastic container closer to him. Pink lips wrapped around a thick straw and sucked hard, fast, the icy chill of the green slush and the chewy comfort of the tapioca pearls drawing a frigid sigh from his lips.

Satisfied, Kadaj sat back and let the cold do its work.

He was stuck on what Yazoo and Loz had admitted to him when he had lain between the two so many days ago. Nevermind the fact that it was only the previous weekend; he'd been assigned so much goddamn _work_ by a spiteful Nii-san that it felt like eternity since. Still, the fact that the bruises were only now beginning to fade brought a rather unwanted shock of reality—it had happened. And he had no clue what to do about it.

He loved his brothers. There was no question about it—the three shared a bond near impossible to shatter after all they had gone though. But he didn't know if he wanted to change the relationship they had now. What if it didn't work out? What if they all ended up hating each other over hurt feelings and petty misunderstandings? If they split up, Kadaj would have nothing. And then he would die: simple as that.

_That's not the issue. Focus._

Did he have feelings for Yazoo and Loz? Did he have feelings for Yazoo _or _Loz?

Both questions did nothing but draw a vat of acid emotion, frothing and dangerous and unfit for exploration.

Sighing, he took another sip of his drink, nibbling on the pearls thoughtfully. He couldn't help but feel bad; the two had tried their best to shock some life into him and he hadn't even been making an effort to see them—choosing instead to creep into the mansion from his assignments in the dead of night. Only when he was sure that the two were asleep and that he wouldn't run into either of them would he tiptoe past their doors and to his room.

He couldn't sleep, however. He'd lay awake for hours.

So, on this particular night, Kadaj sat alone in the kitchen in his monogrammed bathrobe, rapidly intaking green apple bubble tea slush and enjoying orgasmic brain freeze. It was better than alcohol; he didn't want to deal with a hangover on top of all the crap Nii-san was going to kill him with tomorrow. And the icy temperature brought a sense of clarity, something he hadn't felt since before the weekend...

"Kadaj?"

His head snapped up.

"Loz?"

Sure enough, it was his older brother, the man's silver hair sticking up in all directions from sleep. He looked adorably rumpled as he sleepily fumbled his way to the fridge, and the teen couldn't suppress a smile as a look of drowsy confusion crossed his sibling's face.

"m'wanted...milk..."

" Yazoo finished it this morning," Kadaj informed him, amused.

"...damn him..."

Muttering obscenities under his breath, Loz tottered out.

Smiling (and trying to ignore the pained thumping in his chest), he finished off the drink and stood up, deciding to give sleep another shot.

He'd talk to them over Christmas.


	17. XVI: Delicate Duet

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: R**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language, Lemon**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Sa****ïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot and to the characters Yashiro Akiyama, Isabella Akiyama, and Chantilly Leonhart.**

**A/N: Here we are again, with Chapter 16! This chapter is rather short, only three parts, but I guess that's to compensate the monster chapter that's Chapter 17 and that's giving me hell to write. -frowns- Important things happen in this chapter though (including a lemon, yay!) so pay close attention.**

**I have something that I wanted to say in the last A/N but forgot: a few people might have noticed that I changed the story summary a bit to say MultiPairing. I've been getting comments in some of my reviews about how this story was originally RoSo and that I should scrap the whole thing and write it over because there's too many plotlines. People, all the plotlines are connected. I do them for a reason; there is careful and often after-midnight planning behind every chapter between**** My hand held in yours and I. If you dislike the way I'm accustomed to writing fanfiction, then kindly do not read my work. **

**However, this isn't directed towards all of my reviewers - most of you have been a real source of inspiration and I enjoy reading what you have to say every morning. I love every one of you, including my silent readers, and I'd like to thank you for sticking with this story.  
**

**Speaking of reviews, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Vaed for my 100th review. Thank you so much!**

**Anyway, enough of my waffling. Please review, and enjoy.**

* * *

**XVI: Delicate Duet

* * *

**** Thursday – Christmas Eve**

* * *

The auditorium was steadily filling, parents and students filtering in from the entrances and taking seats in the rows. He was surprised—it was Christmas Eve, after all, Riku hadn't expected _this_ many people to show up. It wasn't like the Winter Concert was the pinnacle of musical prowess; even he had to admit that hearing the choir sing the same carols every year got a bit tedious...

Behind him, Selphie twirled round and round in her shimmering dark green dress, giggling and chattering away to her boyfriend. Tidus, to his credit, looked every bit as uncomfortable as Riku did—Selphie had forced them both into dress pants and shirts with bowties to match her outfit, and neither male was happy about it. But the hyper female could be very convincing—a double whammy of no sex and the revealing of certain incriminating photos had forced both boys to their knees.

That girl was evil. Evil in a compact, sugary package.

They'd spent the past two weeks practicing. Selphie was doing vocals, Tidus was playing violin (even though the instrument was completely unnecessary) and Riku was playing the piano and also doing vocals. He couldn't even remember how he'd been roped into this crazy scheme in the first place—

_Loneliness. Phone call. Party. Strip poker. _

Oh, yeah.

Anyway, he'd finally gotten tired of the small girl's barking and had decided to stay after school to practice in peace. He'd been well into the music when he'd felt eyes on him, and then they'd had that weird conversation...Riku didn't know what had been going through his mind when he'd invited the brunette to the concert. The teen had simply stared at him, gray stare betraying nothing, and then left. Each footstep he heard making their way down the hall had caused something to _twist _in his chest.

Sora wasn't coming.

The small boy had mentioned something about having to drop his parents off at the airport, but Riku couldn't help but feel even worse. He just wanted his best friend there, so badly that he'd asked almost a complete stranger to go...had he been subconsciously trying to substitute the senior for Sora? Hadn't he been thinking about Sora that first time they had collided? Or was it the boy himself...?

He felt a migraine coming on.

"Riku?" There was a hand on his arm and a voice in his ear. "They're about to start the program and we have to be on standby, so stay with us, 'kay?"

"Yeah...sure, Selphie..."

* * *

An hour in and Leon wanted to kill himself. 

_Why, _in all that was good and holy had he agreed to come to this disaster? He had _things_ to do—projects to start, chores to finish, clothes to pack for himself and Chantilly so that they could spend the night at Cloud's house—and he had to STD-proof the guest room. Mr. Leonhart had developed the habit of bending his tricks over every available surface in the house and the brunette didn't want to take the chance that he'd decided to have a romp in there too. Cloud had wanted to give his guardians some time alone on Christmas night, and he wasn't about to let his friend get sick from heaven knew exactly _what_ bacteria lurking between those sheets.

He was sliding on his winter jacket to leave when the MC announced the next act and the curtains slid open in a series of screeches and whirs. A now familiar head of silver hair, looking distinctly uncomfortable, took a seat around the piano while another boy commandeered a violin and a girl in a green dress walked up to the microphone.

Well, maybe he could stay for a few more minutes.

"Hello, everybody! My name is Selphie Tilmitt! The guy on the violin is Tidus Nakano and the guy on the piano is Riku Takahashi! We're pleased to meet you all, everybody looks great!"

This girl was imbibing mass amounts of sugar, he decided.

"So, we're going to be performing a song called _Hallelujah_ by Rufus Wainwright that has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas! But the song is pretty anyway, so we hope you all like it!"

Titters and another smattering of applause went up in the crowd as Riku began to play.

"I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you...?"

"If girls like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor chord, the major lift, the baffled king composing, hallelujah..."

The two took turns doing melody and harmony, interchanging solo and duet, the blonde boy's violin peaking and waning in volume with their strength. For all her hyperactivity, Selphie actually had a nice voice, a soprano with a river of power lurking behind her dulcet tones. But it was Riku who fixed Leon's attention—he played with a strange look on his face, and at certain parts he almost looked...angry.

"Maybe I have been here before, I know this room, I've walked this floor, I used to live alone before I knew you...I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken...hallelujah..."

The violin swelled to meet Selphie's crescendo, and Riku played harder, the tension in his shoulders increasing with every note. It was as if the song was hurting him in some form; as if some sticky bandage was slowly being peeled away from his skin and it was morbidly fascinating for Leon, who couldn't remember the last time he'd heard such bitter passion in a piece of music.

"Maybe there's a god above, and all I ever learned from love was how to shoot at some who outdrew you..."

At that moment, Riku just _happened_ to look up and intense jade eyes—greener than spring's first blades of grass—fixed on his own. The platinum boy's eyes widened slightly although his hands never ceased their movement and his voice never cracked; Leon was sitting close enough to the stage to be able to see it. And he felt it, just for a thousand instants, a quivering juxtapose of connection and repellence entwined with the lilt of piano keys.

For a moment, it felt like Riku was playing for _him_.

"...and it's not a cry you can hear at night, it's not somebody who's seen the light, it's a cold and it's a broken...hallelujah..."

He didn't know how long they held that gaze but the next thing he knew there was applause and the curtains closing and he was crunching through the cold snow...

...changed.

* * *

"Sora..." 

"Roxas, _please_!"

The blonde sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. He was not happy.

He was not happy at all.

Here they were, alone, together in a warm house on Christmas Eve, no parents around, the snow falling outside, snuggled in bed with candles flickering romantically around their room...and his boyfriend wasn't thinking about him. No, Sora's mind was firmly fixed on _poor widdle Riku_ whose feelings were going to be so _hurt_ because they couldn't attend his _concert_ and wouldn't it be a good thing to _go over to his house for Christmas dinner _to make it up to him...

Sora was actually proposing that they break sanctuary to visit that idiot.

Roxas twitched.

It wasn't that he had anything against Riku. Really, he was a nice guy and all...Roxas just didn't like the way he looked at Sora. He had that lost puppy aura around him, and he gazed at the brunette with big, sad eyes as if he wanted Sora to take him home. And there was nothing Roxas could do to stake his claim without endangering their secret—and coming off as a total asshole, pissing Sora off in the process and all but shoving him into the senior's arms...

"You're jealous, aren't you?"

He recoiled in surprise as knowing blue eyes glowed with a hint of mischievousness.

"I am not—"

"Yes, you are." Lazily, Sora stretched in his brother's hold, letting Roxas feel the plains and contours of his body. "You can't stand the thought of Riku and I together. Of him on top of me, his cock stretching and filling me instead of yours...it drives you insane, and you know it."

"_Sora_—" He felt himself growing angry at the thought of _his_ Sora being fucked by that loser. Even more disturbing was the look on Sora's face. It was a look of...thrill, and was that his hand wandering between his legs...?

"I can imagine it now," the brunette said dreamily, a pale palm closing around his own length and stroking it slowly. He could feel the little shocks and shudders racing down Sora's spine as he touched himself, and the first flushes of his own arousal began to bloom amidst the rage. "His hair dripping wet with sweat as his thick cock fucks me against a wall...we used to take baths together, you know, and his cock curves slightly to the left...I bet it would feel great against my sweet spot..."

The boy in his arms was trembling now, his hand moved faster and his voice was shaky, but he managed to stutter out, "I bet he could do me better than you could..."

Roxas growled.

That was _it._

Roughly, Roxas tore Sora's hand away from his cock and flipped him onto his stomach. Getting off the bed, he threw open the closet door and brought down a bag of..._souvenirs_ from their weekend in Traverse Town. Metal glinted in the light of the flames as he withdrew what he needed and threw the bag back into the closet, and there was only a warning squeeze to his boyfriend's wrists before handcuffs clicked closed around them. Attaching the other ends to the poles of Sora's bedhead, he stood again and retrieved a candle.

Sora's eyes widened.

"You've been a very bad boy, Sora," the blonde purred as he straddled his brother's ass, curling a hand protectively around the flickering flame. "A very bad boy. Have you forgotten who you belong to?"

There was a smirk in the brunette's voice as he answered, "You're too pussy to remind me."

"Really?"

Sora's pained scream was like music to his ears as the first drops of hot wax hit his twin's back. He gave his brother a minute or so to get used to the feeling as he affectionately caressed the spot, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin. Brushing the now solidified wax shards away, he began to draw patterns with it, letting the liquid fall in swirls and curlicues and relishing the brunette's moans. He could tell that Sora enjoyed the burn of the thick substance; he pressed it harder into the pale flesh with his finger and felt his boyfriend writhe under him—trying desperately to generate some kind of friction with the sheets as the masterful torture continued.

"So," he said, bending over Sora to whisper and nip at his lover's ears, "Have you changed your mind?"

"N-no," his lover stuttered out. Roxas could feel the vibrations of a fine tremble through the body beneath him and knew his twin had to be longing for release.

"Really?" Picking at the wax with a fingernail, the blonde managed to get it all off and pursed his lips at the pale pink shade of his boyfriend's back. "Let's darken those marks, shall we?"

He blew the candle out, placing it on the bedside table and reaching under the bed. There was a sharp whistle of leather cutting the air before Sora shrieked.

"Count them."

His boyfriend whimpered.

"O-one..."

They went up to fifteen, the sensual song of the riding crop playing in his hand, in his heart as Sora's skin began to turn red. The brunette had long since given up screaming, choosing instead to let out sharp squeaks every time he was hit. Saturday night had taught him a lot about his lover—between school and psychiatrist appointments they hadn't bothered with trying new things. But he was surprised to find out Sora had a bit of a masochist streak, although it was easy to see why—with painful injections twice a week for a year it was either learn to like it or go insane.

The brunette was babbling by the time he finished, tears streaming down his face as he uttered words that were more _desire_ than actual words. Knowing that he would be too tired to bother after they had finished playing, he took a moment to rub cold lotion on his lover's burning skin before slicking an end of the crop in oil.

"Have you changed your mind, Sora?"

"Roxas...p-please..."

"Please what?" he insisted, brushing his brother's entrance with the instrument.

"Fuck me, Roxas, fuck me, _please_..."

He felt Sora's shudders and soft moans as he began to prepare the brunette with shallow thrusts, the metal clinking as Sora strained in futile to take more of it into himself. Roxas' own erection was throbbing, precum gathering at the tip and he couldn't help but release a breathy gasp as his palm curled around it.

"Don't t-tease me," the brunette said weakly, his muscles tense in anticipation. Quickly, hand shaking, he removed the rod and let it fall to the wayside before entering his lover in one smooth thrust.

Their union was slick, hot, and fast, the blonde's thrusts erratic as he plunged into his eager lover with abandon. It wasn't long before white stars erupted across both their visions, the weight of their orgasms hitting them like a rushing train. He narrowly avoided crushing the small boy and collapsed next to him instead, carefully pulling the brunette into his arms.

"Roxas...I..." Sora tried to speak, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he tried to slow his racing heart.

"It's okay, Sora. I understand. It's okay."

"Love you..." his twin said sleepily, and Roxas held his brother close as darkness began to overtake his vision.

"Love you too."


	18. XVII: Frozen Dream

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot and to the characters Yashiro Akiyama, Isabella Akiyama, and Chantilly Leonhart.**

**A/N: Well, here it is - the long-awaited Christmas chapter. This is the longest chapter I've ever done, at 13 pages and over 5,000 words, and I am proud to announce that Frozen Dream brought me to one hundred pages of Watercolor. A hundred pages. We've come far, friends. -smiles-**

**We see a little of everyone in this chapter (except Marluxia, for reasons that only I know). Motorbikes, apple strudel, and vicious six-year-olds are all below you, folks. But I'd like to point out one storyline in particular - Cloud's. This chapter holds the last major event that will happen in his plot for a while, although Cloud will continue to appear in the Sora/Roxas storyline. I'm bringing Sora's sexy back this Christmas break (for all the reviewers who want to see more of him), but I have planned exactly when things will heat up again for our favorite chocobo-head. So don't fear, my Cloud fans. He'll be back. **

**Please review, and enjoy.**

* * *

**XVII: Frozen Dream **

**

* * *

**

**Friday—Christmas Morning **

**

* * *

**

A frosted window was the first sight that greeted Aerith on Christmas Day. It was relatively early, only about seven in the morning, but as comfortable as she felt she couldn't go back to sleep. Beside her, Zack snoozed on, his intakes of breath tickling her ear. Giggling, she pulled on a robe and decided to check in on everyone before starting Christmas breakfast.

A tiny brunette was curled in a small ball in the guest room, tangled in her sheets, dreaming of pleasant things. Aerith's heart warmed—children had always held a soft spot in her heart, and this little girl was simply precious. A pang of longing, long since dampened by Cloud's presence but still there struck her heart, for a small child with brown hair and violet eyes—but she quickly pushed it away. Today was not the day to be thinking sad thoughts.

Smoothing out the girl's blankets, she moved on to the next room.

They were tangled up together in his bed, coverlets askew, blonde spikes barely visible under the crook of the other boy's chin. Often lately she had sat up with a cup of blackberry tea and wished, wished that the two could be more than friends, wished that it was him instead of that nightmare who felt that way about her Cloud. But it wasn't meant to be; the soft murmurs of her heart were just that, murmurs. It was simply the type of friendship you'd only find once in a lifetime.

She closed the door.

Pancake batter made smooth circles on the frying pan as she poured the mixture in, eggs cooking on the skillet next to it. Biscuits rose in the oven; coffee ground in its pot, and the house was still silent. Aerith liked daybreak; she liked the mist in the morning air and the way the dew illuminated the strands of the spider's web on the porch. She liked the way the sky lightened, how the snow glistened white before shoes began to trample it.

And it was Christmas, which made everything seem that much more beautiful.

She _felt_ him before she felt him, cold palms finding their way around her waist and an aristocratic chin resting on her shoulder. "You're up early."

"You're rather smart. Shall I give you a cookie?"

A kiss was her answer.

* * *

"Lee?"

He awoke to large gray eyes and a small hand tugging on his arm. Beside him, his sleeping companion mumbled something unintelligible and burrowed deeper into his chest, seeking heat. Absentmindedly stroking the boy's blonde spikes, he gave his sister his sleepy attention. "What's wrong?"

"m'hungry."

"So why don't you go downstairs for food? You know Aerith."

"...m'scared."

Leon frowned.

Chantilly could be overwhelmingly shy sometimes, which was pretty much their father's fault. Most of the different women that he had traipsing in and out of the house had been unkind to her, to the point where she didn't like strangers at all, including other children. He was worried about her development—she was only in first grade and already her report cards said that she was socially inept. The only time she would interact with people would be during music class.

_It's me all over again,_ he thought dully.

Nevertheless, his sister was hungry and there was no way he'd be able to take her downstairs without disengaging the boy using him for teddy duty.

"Get up, Cloud."

The blonde moaned in protest as Leon shook his shoulder. "n'wanna...g'way, Lee..."

"It's Christmas, and it's time for breakfast. Get. Up."

Cloud stubbornly burrowed deeper into his blankets. Leon retaliated by whipping the coverings off of his best friend's body and amused, he watched the teen sleepily grope for his blankets.

"Whr-did th'warm go...?"

Chantilly giggled.

Finally growing impatient, he bodily picked the blonde up and hefted him under one arm—ignoring the surprised yelps and cries of molestation—and took the little girl by his other hand. The couple in the kitchen raised their eyebrows as Leon walked in with his odd entourage and unceremoniously dropped Cloud into a seat.

Now fully awake, the blonde glared at him. "That was undignified and completely uncalled for, Leon!"

"I _told_ you to get up."

Snickering at the grown ups' antics, the small child let him go and clambered her way into Cloud's lap. She'd taken to the other senior surprisingly quickly, and Leon had a suspicion that her six-year-old heart held a small torch for the blonde boy. He also had a suspicion that others thought _he_ held a small torch for the blonde boy—if the mischievous way that Zack was staring at him now could be used as an indicator.

But he couldn't help but remember last night—the almost hopeless undertones of Riku's voice, the way that his music had reached out like a plea for help, the surprise and confusion in the platinum boy's eyes. It was an antagonist's adhesive, how connected he'd felt—just for a second—and Leon didn't know what to make of it.

He and Cloud were overdue for a talk.

"Merry Christmas, little lady!" Zack said, grinning down at the child in his cousin's lap.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Fair," Chantilly replied quietly.

"Tell me, do you like pancakes?"

"I—they're okay, Mr. Fair," she said, although Leon knew she was lying. The little girl was addicted. Sometimes he'd bring her to work with him on Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons when he couldn't find a babysitter. The staff would sit her at a small table in the kitchen with her homework and pamper the little girl with food. All of the strange people had scared her at first, but with his reassurances she'd started requesting things. And she asked for pancakes. Every time.

"Just okay?" Zack said, teasingly placing a plate of buttermilk-blueberry pancakes with syrup just out of her reach. He could have sworn he saw her mouth water. "I mean, if they're _just_ okay, you wouldn't really want _these_, would you?"

Privately amused, he watched her internal battle as her eyes flickered between the golden circles and Zack's smile—undecided.

"Just give the child her food, Zack," Cloud said finally, rolling his eyes and reaching for the plate. Leon could see Aerith smile at her husband's antics as she served everyone, and welcomed the steaming cup of coffee that she offered him.

"Do you want anything else, Leon?" the woman said kindly, absentmindedly waving a large spoon around.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Just a bit of toast?" she wheedled, her green eyes huge and her lip wobbling.

...he _hated_ it when women did that. "Fine."

Breakfast passed uneventfully, with Cloud alternating between coaxing the company-conscious Chantilly to indulge herself and stuffing his face, the Fairs giving him and Cloud conspiratorial looks, and him watching the Fairs watch him and sipping his coffee. Eventually, everyone was finished, and Leon couldn't help but feel slightly disturbed at the almost rabid enthusiasm present on Zack's face.

"PRESENTS!"

* * *

The scene felt comfortably familiar as they sipped coffee and ate strudel, the snow whirling outside as they watched it from their corner. Aside from a couple making out between bagel bites, they were the only patrons in _Le Blanc et Noir_ that morning. Not that it was particularly shocking considering the holiday; he was just getting over the surprise that he was here at all.

"_Xemnas?"_

_He was quite surprised when he opened his door on Christmas morning to find one Xemnas Lorac standing on his doorstep, cheeks red from the cold but looking unusually cheerful._

"_Merry Christmas, Saïx," the argent-haired teen said, smiling._

"_Merry Christmas—please, come in." he replied, quickly stepping aside to let the boy in. He knew he would be in major trouble if Zexion decided to come downstairs; his brother was nursing a hangover and would probably be in a violent mood. But he couldn't just leave Xemnas on the doorstep, snow was falling fast and the teen had to be freezing._

"_Did I wake you?" Xemnas asked as he shook the snow off of his jacket, eying his mussed blue hair and hastily grabbed bathrobe._

"_Yes," he said flatly._

"_I apologize," the teen said smoothly, not sounding particularly apologetic. "But would you allow me to make it up to you with Christmas breakfast?"_

_Saïx stared. _

"_You seriously came all the way out here in minus ten degree weather through three feet of snow to invite me to have breakfast with you."_

"_Yes. Yes I did."_

He had opened his mouth, fully prepared to say no, when he thought about it. Really, it wasn't like he had anything better to do, and the only thing in their fridge was beer and mustard. Plus, he hadn't been looking forward to spending the day as Zexion's object of abuse. So, he had said yes and tried not to feel guilty at the look of quiet joy in Xemnas' eyes. He _had_ pretty much rejected the man less than a week ago, after all.

So here they were.

It was depressing to him—after childhood Christmases of gift wrap showers and chocolate cake with cherry icing and his lovely mother in brightly colored kimonos—that the holiday that she had taught her sons was reduced to this. One sleeping on this morning, tired from a night of drowning his sorrows in alcohol, and the other sitting at a table in a secluded café with his homosexual suitor and new bruises on his back.

Yes, it was thoroughly depressing.

"I think that coffee has enough sugar, Saïx."

He was pulled from his thoughts by a quietly inquisitive Xemnas. Looking down, he realized that the man was right—he'd emptied almost the entire sugar bowl into his now undrinkable coffee. With an almost inaudible sigh, he pushed the cup aside and proceeded to pick at the strudel.

"You look unhappy," Xemnas observed.

"Really?" he asked mildly, not really knowing how to respond.

"Is something on your mind?"

"...rhapsodizing, I suppose."

"Is it anything in particular you'd like to discuss?"

"Not really." He took a moment to admire the view outside, getting his thoughts together as orange eyes regarded him calmly. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

He gave Xemnas his full attention, watching as the calm look changed to one of slight apprehension. He could tell the other had caught the meaning behind the innocent sentence. "See me today, or see me at all?"

"...see you at all, honestly."

"Why ever not?" There was now a hint of distinct confusion—and a barely discernable hurt—in Xemnas' tone. "I told you I was not giving up."

"You must forgive me, Xemnas," he said quietly. "I did not believe you."

There was a measure or two of silence before the silver-haired teen spoke. "Did I—"

"No, you did not give me a reason," he replied, anticipating the question. "But I have been convinced to change my opinion."

"Good to know," the darker one breathed. It was a direct echo of Saïx's own words, yet its truth was more tangible in second intonation. Relief was evident and almost shining in the man's ginger eyes, and the tension that had been brewing evaporated.

Saïx's strudel was now lukewarm but he picked at it anyway, again watching the blizzard as the filling coated his mouth. He registered movement on Xemnas' part but ignored it until he felt warm fingers curling around his hand; heat radiated through their joined palms and up his arms and he gave a rebellious shiver.

"Is this okay?"

He should have said no, should have said that he disliked Xemnas touching him, should have said that he wasn't even _gay _and that he wanted this whole charade to end and walked out of the café forever. But he didn't.

"It's...fine."

They stayed like that all morning.

* * *

**Christmas Evening**

* * *

That had to be _the_ most twisted Christmas dinner he had ever had the misfortune of attending.

The twins all but ran out to their car through the snow, Roxas gunning the engine and Sora jumping into the passenger seat not a second too soon. They didn't speak until they were safely on the highway; only then did Sora let a series of nervous giggles escape his lips.

"That was..."

"Yeah," Roxas agreed, tightly gripping the steering wheel.

Riku's uncle Ansem had been in attendance. Everything—the appetizer, main course, and dessert of cake and cookies had gone fine (if not slightly jilted in conversation) until Mrs. Takahashi brought out the vodka.

"I can't help but feel a bit sorry for Riku, though," Sora said breathlessly, glancing over at Roxas to see his expression. Aside from a small twitch, the blonde didn't seem to be bothered by what Sora was saying. "I mean, to have Ansem blurt out his feelings like that—"

"I know," Roxas agreed grudgingly. It was quite obvious that Ansem could not hold his liquor; after only three glasses he'd started talking nonsense. Mrs. Takahashi had attempted to get him up to bed when he'd jumped onto the coffee table and loudly proclaimed his nephew's burning love for Sora.

He'd never seen Riku turn that red.

There had been a very awkward silence before Sora had faked whooping cough. Roxas quickly caught on, saying that he was very sorry but his brother wasn't feeling well and that he had to take him home right away. Mr. Takahashi had immediately agreed and shooed them out of the door while Riku's mother alternated between comforting her traumatized son and making sure Ansem didn't hurt himself.

Sora felt really bad for running out on Riku like that and he knew they'd have to have a talk about it (which he was _not_ looking forward to) but he was sure it would have been worse had they stayed. But Roxas looked pissed and suddenly the brunette found himself wishing they were home already.

"Well, you're going to have to talk to him sooner or later," the blonde said coolly as they took an overpass.

"I am aware of that, Roxas," Sora bit out through gritted teeth.

There was uneasy silence for a few minutes before his twin spoke up again. "I _told_ you we should have stayed home—"

Sora snapped.

"Pull. Over."

"Sora, we are on a _highway_—"

"Pull the _fuck_ over!"

Frowning, Roxas hit the hazards and eased the car into a service lane. Turning to his lover, the blonde was about to speak when Sora clapped a hand over his mouth.

"No. Shut up. You're going to shut up and get the _fuck_ over yourself right now. Because you're going too far and it's pissing me off!" He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, _needing_ to get through to his brother. "There was more to last night than the sex, wasn't there? I don't know what happened to you, you just...I've known that Riku had feelings for me ever since I came back. Even I'm not that dense. And I haven't left you yet. You know why, asshole? Because I love you. But if you keep acting like this, I _will_ leave you—all you're doing is proving that you don't trust me."

The blonde managed to free himself, blue eyes blazing. "Trust has _nothing_ to do with this, Sora—"

"Yes it _does_, Roxas, yes it _does_!" Sora cried, gripping his hair in frustration. "I keep telling you that I don't have feelings for Riku and you don't trust me enough to believe me!" His voice quieted, pearly tears escaping their prison and streaming down his cheeks. "What do I have to do to prove it to you?"

Roxas' heart broke at the sight of his twin crying, guilt and regret welling up inside of him. Slowly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and gathered the brunette into his arms, rubbing the smaller one's back as he cried. "I'm sorry, Sora," he said quietly. "I just...Riku can be with you but I can't. I guess I was scared that you'd realize that and leave. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I love you, Roxas, I really do..." the brunette sobbed into his jacket.

"I know, Sora. I know."

* * *

A black limousine pulled up in front of the Fair residence at about five o'clock Christmas afternoon. With tinted windows and dark exterior, it was nigh impossible to tell who was inside—something that a crafty smirk and a head of engine-red hair was counting on.

"Should I wait for you, Mr. Sinclair?"

"Yeah. I appreciate this, yo."

"No problem, Mr. Sinclair."

Reno was on a mission.

Something was wrong with Cloud. He was getting out of line—refusing to carry Reno's things, not answering his calls and messages, turning down offers to spend the night at the mansion, getting a little too close for comfort to Leonhart. He knew that the blonde knew that he had seen the two of them together in school, and his boyfriend didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Well, the redhead thought confidently as he rang the doorbell, he'd fix that issue tonight.

He had plans for that minx.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Fair," he said to the brunette when she opened the door. "May I come in?"

"Well..." she looked apprehensive. "We're entertaining guests, so I'll just get him for you, alright?"

Giving him a quick smile, she went back into the living room. Bemused—wouldn't she _want_ any guests to meet their son's darling boyfriend?—he waited in the foyer, smiling in appreciation at the little blonde as he emerged from the room. Cloud looked gorgeous as ever, with dark jeans, red turtleneck and a gift wrapping bow stuck in his hair.

"This won't take long, Aerith, I promise—oh, Merry Christmas, Reno."

"Same to you, babe," he said, pulling the blonde into a deep kiss. But as tongue met tongue, he frowned inwardly—Cloud wasn't responding right. Sure, his arms were around Reno's neck and he was kissing back and didn't resist when the redhead forced his legs apart, but the usual fervor...just wasn't there.

_Something is definitely wrong, yo._

"So, is there a reason for this visit?" the blonde asked a bit breathlessly when they broke apart.

"I want to take you somewhere special," he murmured into his boyfriend's neck. On second thought, his bedroom didn't really count as special, but they would be together, so who cared? "I haven't spent any time with my boy lately. I miss you."

" Reno, you spent all weekend with me."

"But that was five whole days ago," he whined.

"I'm sorry, but I can't." Cloud looked distinctly uncomfortable as he wiggled out of the redhead's hold. "We have guests, and—"

"Screw them, Cloud," he replied, sneaking a teasing hand under the blonde's sweater. "Come on, our ride is waiting—"

"No!" the blonde said forcefully, stepping completely out of Reno's reach. "I'm not going with you. I have to stay. I'm sorry."

Reno was shocked. His boyfriend had never taken that tone with him before, and he didn't like the change. "Cloud, what—"

"Cloud?"

The redhead's attention turned to the source of the timid voice, and spotted a small, brown-haired girl standing nearby. _Whose kid is that?_

He watched, fascinated, as Cloud immediately beckoned her over, kneeling to the girl's eye level. "What's wrong, Chantilly?"

The child rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Lee-Lee wants t'know if you wanna leave now."

_Lee-Lee?_

Reno took a closer look at the child, curious. Small, innocent face, soft chocolate hair, wide gray eyes...

Gray eyes?

_Lee-Lee..._

Sudden, violent anger flowed through Reno and he roughly grabbed Cloud up from the floor. The blonde yelped in protest and pain as his back was slammed against the wall and Chantilly squeaked in fright.

"Leonhart's here, isn't he?" he hissed into his lover's ear, keeping a vice grip on the blonde's wrists. "You'll spend Christmas with him, but not with me? Where is he planning to take you, Cloud? Back to his place to make love?"

" Reno, it's not like that—" Cloud cried.

The little girl clung to the blonde's leg as Reno pressed viciously on his pulse points. He wouldn't put it past his lover to attack him, and seeing the fatigue flicker in those blue eyes was reassuring as he continued his assault. "That's it, isn't it? I've seen you two in school together—you're going behind my back, aren't you?"

"Cloud..." the child whimpered.

"I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH LEON!" Cloud screamed. "LET ME GO!"

"You are coming with me, baby," the redhead breathed, dragging the blonde by the wrists to the door. By now, Reno was beyond reason—he didn't care that Cloud was in pain, didn't care that he wasn't wearing a jacket and would get sick, didn't care that Leonhart had probably heard the noise and was coming to investigate—all that mattered was getting Cloud _out of that house_—

"YOU LET HIM GO!"

Oh.

My.

God.

"...ow."

Vaguely, he heard the sound of multiple footfalls as he curled into fetal position and registered the small crowd now staring down at him. The girl had both hands over her mouth as if she couldn't believe that she'd kicked a _boy_, and a furious Leon was comforting a shaking Cloud, but the only thing that registered was the overwhelming pain in his balls...

* * *

"Sir, what happened—"

"Just drive, Jenkins."

"But sir—"

"_Drive."_

* * *

It wasn't much, just a warm room and a cup of noodles, but it was something.

The three of them sat on Kadaj's bed on Christmas evening, for once out of their leather ensembles and bundled in pajamas instead, eating Top Ramen in comfortable silence. It wasn't as though none of them knew this was far from the traditional Christmas, but at least Sephiroth had been kind enough to give his agents one day. And it was a special day indeed; this single day off would mark the beginning of the end for them.

Kadaj put his bowl down.

It wasn't as if he wasn't nervous. He was, he was nervous as _hell_ about what he was about to do. But he had thought about it, turning it over and over in his mind since Tuesday. He hadn't slept much between assignments; he was so stuck on the issues inside the issue—mainly, what would happen if Nii-san were to ever find out—but, as he'd promised himself, he wasn't going to stall anymore. This was getting settled _today_.

"Loz, Yazoo...I have something to say."

Loz was merely curious, but Kadaj could see the spark of apprehension in Yazoo's emerald depths. The medic had obviously deduced what this was about. "What is it, Kadaj?"

He took a deep breath. "I've been thinking. About what you said. About loving me. Both of you. Um...yeah."

"Really?" That same gleam was now reflective in the middle child's eyes, and Yazoo spoke softly to him, as if talking too loudly would shatter the moment.

"Yes. And I've come to a decision."

Inhalation ceased.

Kadaj felt uncomfortable with two pairs of intense peridot eyes fixed on him, but plowed on anyway. "I—I don't know why you'd want me that way. I really don't. But...I trust you." He fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, trying to pluck up the courage to finish his statement. "So I've decided that...I'm going to give you both a chance."

He chose to look out of his one small window instead of looking at them, his cheeks pink and metallic locks hiding his face. But then Yazoo hugged him tightly, and Loz's strong arms found their way around his waist, and he felt better than he had since he couldn't remember. Everything was okay.

Just for today, everything was okay.

* * *

Vincent Valentine, for the record, was not used to socializing. Sure, he worked with other doctors to split patient's brains open, and there were the office parties that he was convinced (read: forced) to attend, but other than that, he was not a people person.

Force of habit spawned only from his younger years with his mother had compelled him to put up a small tree—and a sprig of mistletoe, for irony's sake—but that was about it for Christmas spirit. His mother, tiny Sujuka Valentine, was long gone, he had no lover to speak of, and he'd received his phone calls from his coworkers earlier in the day.

So, having settled in with Nabokov's _Lolita_ and a glass of champagne for the night, said Vincent Valentine was very surprised when the roar of a motorcycle was followed not a minute later by the chiming of his doorbell.

"Cloud? What are you doing here?"

"Merry Christmas, Vincent. Can I come in?"

So now, he had one Cloud Strife sitting on the loveseat across from his armchair, brushing snow from his bright blonde hair, mysterious package in hand, eying him anxiously. With practiced ease, he marked his page and set the novel on a sidetable. "Can I get you anything? Water, coffee, tea, something stronger?"

"Something stronger would be appreciated."

He perused his stores and eventually settled on scotch. The first question that he asked of Cloud, as the little blonde took the proffered drink with a pleased sigh, was only of mild interest to him, and did nothing to satisfy the curiosity burning behind his crimson eyes. "Was that your bike?"

Cloud nodded. "It was a Christmas gift from my cousin." At the mention of the current holiday, the blonde's eyes seemed to dim.

"You are old enough to drive?"

The teen shot him a muted glare. "I turn eighteen next month."

"Really? May I have the date?"

"The seventeenth."

Vincent stored the information away for future use, and decided to start prodding.

"You seem distracted."

"I do?"

"Yes," he replied.

"I'm sorry. It's just..." the blonde trailed off.

"Please, continue."

"I am not supposed to be here," Cloud began with a sigh. "I'm supposed to be at my best friend's house with him and his little sister. They spent the night at my house last night. Reno visited not too long ago."

"And..."

"He wanted me to go somewhere with him. I told him I couldn't because we had guests, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He was starting to get angry when Leon—that's my friend's name—his little sister came out and said that Lee-Lee wanted to know if I was ready to leave. It wasn't hard for Reno to figure out who she was talking about; she looks just like him."

The blonde intook the majority of his scotch in one swallow and pressed the near-empty glass to his forehead, as if the chill would ward off his troubles. Vincent watched him, inwardly wondering how Sinclair could treat such..._grace_ so carelessly. "How did it end?"

"My _lover,_" Cloud spat the word out as if it soured his mouth, "attempted to manhandle me into leaving after he accused me of being in love with Leon. Chantilly kicked him in the crotch."

Vincent couldn't suppress a snort. "It was no more than he deserved."

"You know, I think you're right." The blonde gave him a wan smile, then sighed. "I'm really sorry, Vincent. It wasn't my intention to bother you with my issues."

"There is nothing to forgive. I'm rather amused, actually. But I do admit to being curious about your visit."

Cloud smiled then, the first truly radiant smile that the neurosurgeon had seen since the blonde arrival, and he couldn't help it—his breath caught.

_Strife, what are you doing to this cranky old doctor?_

"I brought you a present," the blonde said, holding the package in his arms to Vincent. "You know, as a thank you for last week and all..."

* * *

"_Did he hurt you?"_

"_No, Leon, I'm fine."_

"_Let me see your wrists—"_

"_I said I was fine, Leon."_

"_I'm taking you home right now—you need to rest."_

"_Take Chantilly. I have to make a detour before I head over there." _

"_Cloud—"_

" _Leon__, please."_

_A sigh. "Be careful," the brunette murmured into his best friend's neck._

The blonde had to resist the urge to titter as he watched Vincent open his gift. There was a look of intense concentration on the doctor's face as he carefully peeled away the tape until the paper fell away to reveal...

"Wark!"

Cloud burst out laughing.

"Cloud..." Vincent began, edging away from the green ball of fluff that was nuzzling at him in interest. "There is a chocobo attempting to fornicate with my thigh."

"Her name is Jammy!" Cloud said brightly.

"Wark wark wark kweh!"

"You got me a chocobo for Christmas?"

Jammy was a cute little thing, with green fur and green eyes and a lot of energy. She hopped around on Vincent's lap, warking and staring innocently up at her new owner. Vincent, however, seemed bewildered, and Cloud quickly calmed down as the implications of what he'd just done began to settle in. _What if he's angry with me now? What if he doesn't like her and gives her away? Oh god, what if he has her put to sleep?_

"Yeah, but—I mean—if you don't like it, I can take her back," he said quickly, heart thumping. "I just thought—since you travel a lot—you'd like some company, and the green ones are kinda rare, and—"

"It is fine, Cloud." Cautiously, the doctor began to pet the bird, and Jammy seemed to like the attention she was getting. "That is very thoughtful."

"Wark!"

All the blood in his body seemed to pool in his face as his heart stopped racing, and he was glad that the doctor wasn't watching him. "Um, well..." Cloud stood up awkwardly, downing the last of the scotch. "It's late, and Leon's probably worried sick, so I'd better go..."

"I'll walk to you to the door," said Vincent.

The doctor's new pet toddled behind them as they stood in the foyer, the blonde tugging on a pair of leather gloves and zipping on his jacket. "Thanks for the scotch, Vincent. And for letting me bitch."

"You are welcome. And thank you for your gift," he indicated the bird that was now attempting to climb up his pant leg. "Traveling does take its toll."

"How long will you be in Hollow Bastion?"

"Well, all of my colleagues are of the opinion that I work too hard, so I am not expected to perform surgery until at least February. I will be here a while."

"Okay."

There was an awkward silence for a moment or two, as neither of them knew what to say. The blonde appeared to be battling himself, and Vincent was about to ask what was wrong but suddenly there were warm lips on his cheek and his throat closed.

"Merry Christmas, Vincent."

And as the roar of a motorcycle echoed in the distance, he absentmindedly scooped up Jammy and made for his bedroom, a single thought fixed in his mind.

"January seventeenth..."

* * *

"I need access to Sora Akiyama's files."

Kairi Whitebridge leaned impassively against a wall as her father played indoor golf. "And why should I give you access?"

"Because you're my father, it's Christmas, and you love me?" Kairi gave her father her most dazzling smile.

"Kairi, this is starting to get tedious." Mayor Whitebridge leaned on his golf club and stared down at his daughter. "Every time you want something, I give it to you. What do you learn from that?"

"That you can get anything if you ask nicely?"

"Wrong answer."

"Daddy—"

"Kairi, the real world doesn't work that way," the man sighed. "If you want something, you have to work for it. And it's time you started taking some responsibility."

The redhead inwardly groaned. "Daddy, it's just one code—"

"No, Kairi." The mayor lined up a shot. "You're getting too spoiled. Your mother would be horrified if she were alive."

She winced. "Low blow, Dad."

"If you want that code, you'll be doing deskwork after school at City Hall to earn it. My secretary is on maternity leave until early March, so this works out perfectly."

"But—" Kairi couldn't believe this.

City Hall was smack-dab in the middle of Hollow Bastion—any of her friends could pass by at any given time and see her playing _secretary_. And after school too—that threw a monkey wrench into her social life. And all for one password?

"Daddy, there must be another way!"

"Kairi, the offer's on the table. Take it or leave it."

She was so tempted to just screw everything and forget about Sora, forget about Roxas, forget about everything. Deskwork at City Hall...she'd be risking too much. She was already queen bee, was she crazy enough to put her position in jeopardy for _curiosity_?

_I don't have to know. I don't have to know. I don't have to know. I don't have to—_

"I'll take it."


	19. XVIII: Lights, Part Un

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Sa****ïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot and to the characters Yashiro Akiyama, Isabella Akiyama, and Chantilly Leonhart.**

**Well, here we are with Chapter 18! For all of those people who said they liked the Sora/Cloud friendship, there's oodles of it in this chapter, along with something that a lot of people have been curious about. You'll find it out when you get there. Decimated French fries, multicolored fish, and poor Sora getting hit on are all below you. Not really much to say about this one except please review, and enjoy. Oh, and prepare for angst. This chapter and next are peppered with it. :)  
**

* * *

**XVIII: Lights, Part Un**

Roxas watched, amused, as his brother bounced around their room. The brunette was picking up and discarding clothing at an alarming rate, and the blonde could no longer see their carpet.

"Sora, you're just going to the mall—"

"But I'm going with Cloud!" The smaller one emerged from the closet with stars in his eyes. "He's so cool! And he got a motorcycle for Christmas! That's so cool! And I want to look nice," Sora shot the snickering blonde a glare, "So you shut up."

Pushing off from the wall, Roxas plucked a blue sweater and faded jeans from the jungle on the floor, tossing a pair of white, fingerless gloves and a chain from their accessory box onto the bed. "There. That brings out your eyes. Happy?"

Sora let out a shriek and swiftly warm lips were pressing onto his. "Thank you, Roxas," the brunette said happily.

"Yeah, yeah, you can't live without me—"

"No." His twin got serious then, and small arms came to rest around his neck. "Thank you for letting me do what I'm about to do."

Roxas squeezed him tightly, burying his face into the cinnamon locks and inhaling the smell of spice.

It was two days after Christmas and the "Ansem incident" and Sora had been uncharacteristically quiet. At first Roxas had been inwardly alarmed, thinking that Sora was still upset despite their reconciliation on the highway. But it had been last night when Sora had crawled into bed with him and asked for permission to tell one Cloud Strife about their relationship.

The blonde had been shocked, but his brother had quietly explained that it would be better if someone knew and was able to cover them in case something bad happened. Roxas didn't know Cloud very well (aside from what he'd seen in the newspaper) but it was obvious that Sora had given this a lot of thought. So, the logic in his twin's argument coupled with the hopeful spark in Sora's eyes had made it impossible for Roxas to say no.

The doorbell rang.

Sora started dressing at top speed while Roxas padded downstairs in his pajamas to open the door. A gust of wind and snowflakes blew the senior in, biker helmet under one arm, blonde hair as gravity-defying as Roxas' own sprinkled in snow. He had to admit that Cloud was very attractive—he shared the same androgynous charm that Sora seemed to possess, the same bright blue eyes, the same charisma. Roxas could easily say, if he wasn't completely loyal to his twin, that he wouldn't mind a romp in bed with Mr. Strife.

The blondes regarded each other.

"Roxas."

"Cloud."

Sora chose that moment to slide down the banister, fully dressed and in glomp-mode as he attacked the senior. "CLOUD!"

"Hello, Sora. Ready to go?"

"Am I!"

"He'll be back by nine, Roxas," Cloud said.

"Alright. Have fun," he replied, giving Sora a meaningful look. The brunette winked in reply before the two were gone and he padded back upstairs

An easel and a stick of charcoal were calling his name.

* * *

Sora couldn't help but notice, as the duo traversed the vast premises of Bastion Mall, the amount of stares that they were getting. The blonde had been hit on a total of twelve times before they stopped to eat, and Sora himself had, blushing, collected three phone numbers. 

"People who hang around this mall are more our age, and therefore less adverse to deviance than the general populace," Cloud explained in his best professor voice to Sora, who was giggling and munching on fries. "We look single, so we get hit on. It's why I usually get Tifa to come here with me if I need something."

"What about Reno?"

"What _about_ Reno?" There was ice in Cloud's voice and startled, Sora looked at him.

"I mean, he's your boyfriend, right? Shouldn't he come with you?"

"Reno and I...aren't on very good terms right now." The blonde suddenly looked sad, and Sora regretted bringing it up, but his curiosity was piqued.

"What happened?"

Cloud took a curly fry from the basket and chewed it thoughtfully. "You know my friend Leon, no?"

Sora nodded. Squall Leonhart's protectiveness over Cloud was legend.

"Reno came to see me Christmas night, and Leon was over. He thought I was cheating and attacked me."

"_What?_ But...don't you know martial arts?"

Sora felt very sorry for that French fry, because Cloud was chewing with angry vengeance. "Asshole pulse-pointed me."

The brunette had always found the lecherous redhead annoying, but had respected him nonetheless. But to attack his own boyfriend and then weaken him so Reno could have his way..."Then what happened?"

"Leon's sister kicked him in the balls," Cloud said proudly.

Sora burst out laughing. "She didn't!"

"She did. Poor thing was horrified, too. But I kissed her cheek and she was fine after that."

"Someone has a crush."

"She's six. I don't mind."

They finished off the fries and started in on the pizza.

"Are you breaking up with him, Cloud?"

The senior licked tomato sauce off his fingers thoughtfully. "You know, Sora, I don't know. I really shouldn't forgive him for what he did. Leon's my best friend, and if he thinks I'd _do_ something like that then he doesn't trust me at all."

Sora was forcefully reminded of himself and Roxas, and cast about for a change in subject, not wanting to think about their own Christmas troubles. Something that he'd been idly wondering emerged at the forefront of his mind. "Why don't you just date Leon?"

"I can't." The senior's answer was unhesitant and blunt.

"Why the hell not?" The brunette protested. "You guys are perfect for each other!"

"Sora..." Cloud suddenly looked tired. "I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

Not wanting to ruin his friend's good mood, Sora stifled his curiosity and again changed the subject. "Was it Reno who got you into...you know..." he made a vague gesture with his hands.

"Cross-dressing?"

"Yeah." The brunette took a bite of the pizza, hoping Cloud wouldn't take offense. The senior nodded, and Sora took it as a sign to continue, his insatiable curiosity burning. "Do you actually—you know—like it?"

"At first, no," Cloud replied. "Tifa's good at makeup and stuff, so I wasn't really worried about someone finding out. It was more the idea of the whole thing that I didn't like."

"How does it feel? I mean, to do it?"

"It's actually not bad, once you get used to it. Actually...I'm thinking about wearing a dress to graduation. And to the Valentine's Day Dance, if I go."

"To piss people off?"

"Exactly." There was a spark of mischief in his friend's eyes, and Sora was convinced that he was better off without Reno. He'd never seen the blonde look this cheerful. "The heels are murder, but you get used to them."

"Hmm..."

"Why so curious, Sora?" The blonde inquired, taking a sip of soda.

"Well, I was thinking about maybe doing something like that for Rox—"

His eyes widened. He tried to stop himself in time, but it was too late and Cloud had already put two and two together. The senior's face drained of color.

"...Sora...?"

"Cloud..." he swallowed, moving around the table so that he was sitting next to the senior. It was time to face the music.

"I need to talk to you."

* * *

_The balcony was much cooler at nights, the wind whistling through the surrounding trees and tousling Sora's spikes. It broke the princess' hold somewhat, and his mind felt clearer than it had all day. His feet dangled between the partitions in the railing, and he rested his head on the barrier with a tired sigh._

_Their mom was at a cocktail party and wouldn't be back until the wee hours of the morning, which he was glad for. He could barely bring himself to look at her now—he was a freak and it was all her fault. Even after six months, he couldn't understand why...when school was still in session, every day after his lessons with Mr. Burnstein he would sit out here and watch the students walk home. Classes were over for the summer, but still he continued to watch. Sometimes he cried, and sometimes he didn't, but the hollow ache was a permanent fixture in his chest._

"_I know you're there, Roxas," he said softly._

_The blonde didn't even bother denying as he opened the glass doors and joined Sora outside. Their hands brushed lightly as his twin sat down, and an odd barrage of butterflies took flight in Sora's stomach. Yet another thing he didn't understand._

_It was wrong. It was sick and immoral and twisted and every other adjective that he could and couldn't bother to think of. He couldn't understand why his pulse quickened whenever his twin walked into the room, couldn't comprehend the warmth that he felt whenever Roxas hugged him, couldn't fathom the _heat _that formed into the first blooms of arousal when he watched Roxas dress in the morning. It was like a strip tease in reverse, and as the blonde pressed a kiss to the forehead of what he perceived as a slumbering body, it was all he could do to suppress the moans until Roxas walked out of the room; his hand began its sinful descent down his body and into his pajamas. And after it was over, he wanted to die._

_He _really _didn't need this now. _

"_How are you feeling, Sora?"_

_It didn't help that the blonde's voice was so _damn_ addictive. _

_Out of their pair, Roxas was definitely the more sensual of the two. While Sora (before his illness, anyway) crashed and bounded through life on hyperspeed, his twin preferred to take the slower path, observing as he went along. Sora was erratic while his counterpart oozed calm, his gait unhurried and yet exerting a sense of power. The brunette loved watching Roxas walk even as he skipped ahead; it was like watching a jaguar's murderous grace. _

_And the way he talked...Sora's own voice was bubbly, his words sometimes getting jumbled in an effort to get everything out at once. Roxas' was smoother, with a bite that reminded him of dark chocolate and a way of intonation that gave him chills._

_This was so, so wrong._

"_I'm alright," he replied._

"_You cry every day," Roxas said matter-of-factly. "You barely eat, and you don't smile anymore. You're not alright."_

"_I said I was fine, okay?" The first hints of ire were present in Sora's voice._

"_Sora..."_

"_I don't want you to treat me like some invalid, Roxas!" Sora burst out, all his frustration at having to take drugs and not being able to go to school and loving his brother so much that it _hurt _bursting out of him in a frothing, destructive fountain. "I know I'm a freak, okay? I know that you guys are embarrassed of me, I know that my treatments are costing us money, I know that I should have just jumped off this balcony a long time ago—"_

_He couldn't finish, his throat was choked with tears and he couldn't stand the look of horror on Roxas' face. "Is that what you think, Sora?" The blonde's voice was rough and his arms were equally rough as he yanked the brunette into a harsh embrace. "Is that what you really think? Are you that selfish not to consider what would happen to me if you died?"_

"_You'd be better off without me!"  
_

"_No." Roxas was stroking his hair so hard it was almost painful. "You will not die, Sora. You mean too damn much to me to die. I won't let you."_

"_Roxas—"_

_Again, he couldn't speak. _

_Slightly chapped lips had descended on his own and he couldn't _breathe, _oxygen becoming unnecessary to him even as his lungs begged for air_._ His trembling whisper of his brother's name died on the wind as he felt fingers slide through his hair and draw him closer, teeth nibbling lightly on his lip, tongue begging for entrance. It was as if lightning had struck him, zapping every coherent thought from his mind save one._

Am I dreaming? Like, is this—any of this—for real, or not?

because roxas is kissing me

kissing

me...

_He'd dreamt of this moment so many times. Dreamt of it and then awoken to the cruel world knowing it would never happen. Spent so much time watching from afar while she tied up his mind with her amber ribbons, guilt and fear permeating his senses until death seemed like a mercy. But now...he hoped that the small explosions that were playing kamikaze to his deadened sanity were real. He didn't think he could take it if they weren't—this bitter sweetness that was invading his mouth was like a drug and now that he'd had a taste, he wanted more. _

"_You just—" _

"_I'm so sorry, Sora." Roxas wouldn't look at him, remorse evident in his azure eyes. "I...I've been wanting that for a long time, but I shouldn't have done it."_

"_Roxas—" Shock was spiraling through him at the revelation that Roxas felt the same, the tiny candle of hope he couldn't bring himself to snuff out flaring up in his heart._

"_Please." A single tear slid down the blonde's cheek. "You can hate me, just don't die. Please, don't die."  
_

_Sora didn't know how to respond—pain was evident on his brother's face and it made his heart ache. He'd pictured the aftermath of their first kiss to be sweet nothings and tender touches, not bitter tears and failed suicides. So, he grabbed a handful of blonde spikes and planted his mouth on his twin's, trying to tell him without words that he wasn't angry, that he wasn't going to die, that he'd stick around as long as Roxas wanted if only he could keep this__bliss, and when he pulled away minutes or seconds or hours later the blonde looked shocked._

"_Sora?"_

"_I won't die, Roxas." He pulled his brother into a tight hug. "Let me have this with you, and I promise I won't die."_

_Strong arms squeezed him just as tightly, and Sora could feel tears wetting his shirt. "But what if someone finds out?"_

_He kissed his brother's cheek. _

"_No one has to know."_

* * *

Cloud looked shell-shocked when the brunette finished his story, and Sora tried his best not to fidget. "So, yeah...that's what happened," he said lamely, trying to fill the silence that was beginning to grate on his nerves. A plethora of thoughts were rushing through his mind on fast-forward, but he was hoping like hell that his plan wouldn't backfire. The last thing he needed was his mentor hating him. 

"So you mean to tell me," Cloud said slowly, "That you are _dating_ your _twin_ brother?"

Sora winced. That did _not_ sound good.

"Um, yes?"

Cloud didn't say anything for a few minutes, just sat with an odd look on his face and the first hints of panic stirred in the brunette's stomach. "Cloud?" he asked tentatively, trying to provoke a response—_any_ response.

"If this is a secret, then why did you tell?"

A question. No outward hostility so far. He could deal with that. "I...I've been having weird thoughts lately," he began quietly. "Not really thoughts, more like feelings—like something bad is going to happen to us. I just thought...I just thought it'd be better if someone knew. You know, as cover."

"And you chose me?"

There was something off with Cloud's voice, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was and it made him nervous. "I thought you'd be okay with it."

There. He'd gone and tempted fate.

"Sora—" There was still an odd quality to the blonde's tone, but he shot the junior a weak smile. "I'm not going to lie to you, I wasn't expecting that. I...I'll cover for you. So will Leon, if you'll let me tell him. Just give me some time to get used to the idea, okay?"

Relief flooded Sora like water to a dying man and he couldn't resist tackling the senior. "Thanks, Cloud," he breathed into the older boy's neck, resisting the urge to sob. "That means a lot."

"Come on." Cloud squeezed him back, then tossed some money on their table and stood up. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" He zipped up his jacket and glanced at his watch—it was a quarter past four, hours before he was expected home.

"A pit stop, then Zodiac 13. I want to catch Leon's shift."

* * *

Sora liked this place, he decided as the entry bells tinkled merrily. There weren't too many people for a Sunday, but he guessed that most were still sleeping off Christmas hangovers. The staff seemed pretty familiar with Cloud and greeted him cheerfully, a pretty girl with black hair and dark eyes waylaying them at the entrance. 

"Hi, Rinoa."

"Hello, Cloud." She peered at him in interest, kind black eyes twinkling. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is Sora. He's a junior at our school."

"Hi," the brunette said awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you, Sora." She smiled at them both, then jerked a thumb towards the other end of the restaurant. "Leon's on break, if you want him."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

They walked across the dark room, candles illuminating each table and a huge mural of the zodiac made of tiny glow-in-the-dark stars bathing the ceiling. "She knows you pretty well," Sora quipped.

"I'm...here a lot."

The brunette rolled his eyes. Whatever reason Cloud had for not getting together with Leon had to be a major one, because this was just ridiculous. "I still think—" he began, but Cloud cut him off as he opened a door marked "Employees Only."

"Don't even finish that sentence."

Activity bustled around them as they walked into the kitchen, the murmur of voices and the hiss of cooking flame making a cheerful cacophony in the bright room. Several people called out greetings to the two as the blonde led him to the back, where a small brown-haired child was seated at a tiny desk, busily working the pencil in her hand. And sure enough, one Squall Leonhart was sitting at her side, bow tie askew and eating a sandwich.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Even from three feet away, Sora could see the softness in Leon's eyes as he drew Cloud onto his lap.

"Bought you a present, Chantilly," Cloud said as he made himself comfortable, placing the small gift bag he carried onto the child's desk. The girl—who Sora assumed to be Reno's antagonist—shot the blonde a shy smile and immediately began digging through it.

"You can go explore if you want, Sora," the senior called out to him. "Just don't disturb anybody."

"Kay."

He left the upperclassmen to their conversation and picked his way through the throng of checkered outfits, eventually emerging back into the main dining area. There were a few neon-lit aquariums scattered about, and he felt his spirits brighten as he watched the colorful fish swim around. Deciding to check out the shiny-looking bar next, he turned—and immediately bumped into someone. The other person stumbled and grabbed him on instinct, their eyes meeting as the teen tried to catch breath.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't—"

Sora fell silent, and the other person's stream of apologies surmounted to screeching silence. Wide aquamarine eyes gazed back at him, and an odd sense of déjà vu crept through him as he found himself staring into the face of Riku Takahashi.


	20. XIX: Lights, Part Deux

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Slight Language**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Sa****ïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene**

**Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot and to the characters Yashiro Akiyama, Isabella Akiyama, and Chantilly Leonhart.**

**A/N: Hello, and welcome to the 20th installment of Watercolor! I admit there was a bit of delay on this chapter, being that my beta is out of town (and in Disneyland, lucky bitch) and I was also hit with a killer case of writer's block. I tried to comb this chapter carefully for errors myself since I had no one to do so for me, but I'm pretty sure I missed a few, so I apologize if you happen to catch any. When she comes back, I might be replacing this chapter to fix any spelling or grammar errors, but none of the major plot elements will change. So no need to worry.  
**

**About Marluxia, I was meaning to mention this - he wasn't, by any means, killed. His storyline will be reappearing soon, I promise. Also, I know a lot of readers were curious as to why Cloud said he could never date Leon. Well, the answer is right below you! Don't you feel lucky? -smiles- **

** A few minor things - PF Chang's is an actual restaurant chain, and lettuce wraps is an actual food. Peach rum also exists. Zodiac 13, however, is a figment of my imagination. As for the chess piece photograph - the idea was based off a real close-up of chess pieces that a friend of mind took and that I was lucky enough to see. I always wanted to see it painted, so I made Roxas do it.  
**

**Don't forget to review, and please enjoy!**

* * *

**XIX: Lights, Part Deux**

Squall Leonhart was keeping secrets. And with a friend like Cloud, keeping secrets was bad.

He really didn't understand this. Before high school he'd been able to lie to anyone without breaking a sweat. It wasn't as though he was a stranger to the whole nasty business; rather, he was pretty damn good at it, if he did say so himself. And then in freshman year he'd met the little blonde bombshell that was currently sitting on his lap and his carefully honed skill vanished.

_Damn you, Cloud Strife. Damn you._

He'd been distracted today—screwing up two orders and almost dropping a plate of spaghetti on a child's head. Luckily, the head chef hadn't been too angry—knowing that he usually worked hard—and had let him take a break. He'd been helping Chantilly with her first grade holiday homework (which was mind-numbingly repetitive) when Cloud and that little junior he hung out with had shown up. Which, consequently, led to his current dilemma.

Leon had been wanting to tell Cloud something, but didn't know how to say it. It was as if his throat closed every time he tried to bring up the subject, and he ended up giving up and letting his friend prattle on. Memories of the concert kept coming to mind—shiny silver hair, bright green eyes, an ethereal voice. Riku. It was almost ridiculous—he had spent four years in the same building as the boy and hadn't known he existed until they collided in the hallway. And _now_, with graduation a mere six months away, he wanted to know more. It was obsessive, it was madness, it...it was _torture_.

So, common sense would dictate that he talk to his best friend about it. Cloud would understand, right? Right. The blonde wouldn't laugh at the fact that stoic Squall Leonhart wanted to get to know someone who didn't even know his name in ways that he hadn't considered for years. He'd listen patiently, empathize, and maybe be able to help the brunette out. Mostly everyone liked the shy blonde anyway; it wasn't as if getting information about Riku would be particularly difficult. But deep down, even with all these reasons, Leon knew he was making excuses. The root of the issue was quite clear.

He couldn't tell Cloud that he wanted to be with someone, because the last person he had been with was Cloud.

It had been in that odd junction between freshman and sophomore year, starting in the steamy throes of summer and carrying on until April next. The blonde had weaseled his way in Leon's heart by the time their first high school year ended, and it'd been August when the brunette had taken him to bed. Their relationship was a quiet and anticlimactic one, filled with gasping breaths and murmured nothings, and the brunette had no doubt that they'd still be together today if fear hadn't drawn them apart.

It'd been around February when Mr. Leonhart had started a habit.

To say that he'd dumped his first love because his father was a sex addict was a pretty flimsy excuse, but one that was all too real in Squall Leonhart's world. He'd seen the "relationships" his father had, and the seeds of fear began to sprout ugly shoots: now that they'd had sex, did it mean that he and Cloud would turn out the same way? Did it mean that they'd start using and hating and hurting each other now that they'd surrendered their innocence? He'd angrily brushed the thoughts away, but they'd kept growing and growing until he finally couldn't take it anymore.

He'd been as gentle as he could when he'd told Cloud that they were breaking up.

Cloud had cried—of course—and they hadn't made up until the summer of their junior year. His lingering feelings and guilt towards the blonde over those months they had been apart had turned into a fierce protectiveness that he didn't bother suppressing, and really, it wasn't like their friendship was much different: they still touched and kissed and talked like they used to—simply without the romance. It was complicated but comfortable, and he liked it better this way.

But now, it was posing a problem. It was this same closeness that was barring him from talking to his friend and the same closeness that was causing problems for said friend. As much as he hated Reno, he could reluctantly see that redhead's point of view: he and Cloud appeared to be in love to anyone that didn't know better, and they both knew it. Cloud's cousin was a prime example. So then, what if Cloud got even more hurt by Reno because of him—or just as bad—what if by some miracle of the gods he managed to end up with Riku and Riku left him because he was jealous of Cloud?

But he didn't want to change anything about their friendship...

...he was getting a migraine. Being eighteen sucked.

"...dating Roxas—Leon, are you _listening_ to me?"

"Not really," he admitted. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "I was _saying _that Sora just told me that he's dating Roxas and he wants us to cover for him if anything were to happen."

"...aren't Roxas and Sora twins?"

Cloud shot him a _look._

"I just _said_ that, Leon, if you were bothering to pay attention. What were you thinking about so hard, anyway?"

A familiar dilemma awoke in him at Cloud's question, the different sides clambering for purchase as he tried to decide what to do. He didn't want to hurt Cloud's feelings, but it was pretty obvious anyway that the blonde had moved on—if Christmas was any indicator. Cloud didn't want him anymore, so why, really, was he making this so _difficult?_

"I have to tell you something," he said nervously, tightening his hold on his friend. Cloud merely gazed at him, stroking his hair and imploring him to go on. "I think I might...like someone. _That_ way."

"Really?" The blonde immediately looked intrigued. "That's unexpected—what's he like?"

_See how easy that was, Leonhart? Why do you always insist on complicating things?_ "I only spoke to him twice, but he seems...it's strange, Cloud. It's like it's in his nature to be happy, but something is keeping him back. If that makes any sense to you at all."

"It does." The blonde eyed him thoughtfully. "What does he look like?"

Riku's distinct features immediately came to mind, and by the way Cloud was snickering he was sure he looked like a lovestruck idiot. "Well," he said, glaring at the tittering blonde, "He has bluish-green eyes and his hair is silver—"

"Does he play piano?"

Leon stared.

"How did you—"

The excited way that Cloud was bouncing in his lap was going to cause problems if he didn't stop it soon. "I know him! Silver hair—he's Sora's best friend. Riku, right?"

"...yeah," he replied, bewildered.

"Leon, why didn't you tell me sooner? I could have gotten Sora to help you...oh."

"What's wrong?"

He didn't like the expression on his friend's face—the blonde was giving him a sad yet knowing smile. "I get it now. You didn't want to hurt my feelings, did you?"

A sudden rush of guilt pained him as argentate met azure and he didn't know how to answer. "Cloud, I—"

And then his friend kissed him.

Even after more than a year Cloud still tasted the same—like blueberries. There was a gentle, almost mournful passion behind the kiss and Leon languidly kissed back, feeling Cloud's hands tangle in his hair. They were both breathless when they broke apart, and a sudden influx of old memories made him feel horrible as he buried his nose in Cloud's soft spikes.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he said quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter the moment. "We'd still be together if I'd just talked to you about it instead of leaving."

"I know, Leon," the blonde murmured. "But maybe it's better this way."

Cloud's eyes were bright with tears and he felt a sudden rush of affection for his best friend. "You deserve someone to love you," Leon whispered. "Someone better than Sinclair. Someone better than _me_."

"Leon—"

"I was...scared for you on Christmas." He couldn't stop talking—sudden fear for his best friend and first love's life kept the words coming, desperate to make Cloud understand. "You were helpless—none of us thought he would attack you—but he's still in love with you and he's jealous of me. And as long as we're friends, it's going to get worse. Dump him before he goes too far, Cloud. _Please._"

"Okay," Cloud was whispering, a few tears escaping and falling down his cheeks. Leon couldn't believe that a simple confession had turned out like this. "Okay. If you promise to stop blaming yourself for what happened—" they both knew the blonde wasn't just talking about Christmas, "—and you promise to at least try with Riku, then I'll do it."

"...I promise." This time, it was him who kissed Cloud, and when they broke apart he felt bereft. "I don't want you to do it alone. Take Zack with you."

"Zack?"

"I think he'd be able to handle it better if something happened."

"But I thought you'd—"

"I don't care who's there, Cloud." He raked a hand through his friend's hair. "As long as you don't go alone and it gets _done._"

"It will." Cloud said, hugging him tightly. "Soon. Now, why don't you tell me more about this Riku?"

Leon groaned.

* * *

It had been two days since the incident at Christmas, and it was _still_ embarrassing to think about. 

It was obvious that Sora had faked sick to get away from him; his mother's comfort fell on deaf ears as Riku watched the brunette go. It was strange, though—the deep, aching hurt that usually accompanied thoughts of Sora seemed to have lessened—it was still there, yet less potent, less pronounced. He'd thought that maybe he was getting over the one boy that had haunted his every thought for the past year; yet he now stood less than three feet from the brunette and it was all coming back to him.

Sora looked better than he had at Christmas: there was a calmer spark to his bright blue eyes, although they were currently widened in surprise. His cheeks were flushed an attractive pink instead of their paler, pasty hue, and he seemed more like the old Sora than ever—ready to take on the world headfirst. Years of knowing this boy had taught Riku to read the signs, however: the brunette was preparing himself for a talk that neither of them wanted to have.

"Sora, I...wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Likewise, Riku. We have to talk." The brunette obviously wasn't in the mood to cut corners, a familiar darkening of his eyes telling the older teen all he needed to know. "But not here."

"Would you like to take a walk with me, then?" His voice sounded timid to his own ears, and he had to resist the urge to cringe as Sora pulled out a Sidekick.

"Sure, let me just tell Cloud where I'm going..."

_Since when does he have one of those? And who's Cloud? _An irrational uprising of jealousy pounded in Riku's veins, but he fought to quell it.

"Cloud? I'm going to take a walk with Riku...yeah, I ran into him...I won't go far, I promise...okay." The device's cover rotated smartly into place as the call ended and Sora stuck it back in his pocket, shooting the senior a heart-stopping smile. He felt like melting as they walked out the exit, finally emerging alone into the frozen world. It had stopped snowing, but there was a foot and a half on the ground, which made walking slightly difficult. Their breath made little clouds of heat in the air around them as they walked a while in silence before dissipating with the cold.

He knew what had to be said, he just wasn't looking forward to saying it.

"Riku?" Sora's voice was quiet yet echoed softly around them, seeming to carry on the wind that was teasing the empty streets. He couldn't help but inhale sharply as a small but firm hand touched his cheek, glassy blue eyes boring into him with remorse stained in their windows. "Was Ansem telling the truth?"

They both knew the answer to that question, but he knew what Sora wanted. And so he let himself feel the guilty touch of the brunette's fingers as a single word was formed on the breeze, wishing that this wasn't so difficult.

"Yes."

A sharp swallow. "Riku, I'm sorry, but I don't—"

"Why not?" It was in desperation that he latched and held fast to Sora's hands; the first hints of tears turned azure opaque as the junior only stared back at him. "When you were gone, you were all I could think about! We've known each other for so long...Sora, I lo—"

"Don't say it!" The tears had spilled over and were falling on his cheeks, on the sidewalk, freezing on contact like the ice over Riku's heart. "I know you do, but I can't, and I'm sorry—"

"Is it someone else?

"Riku, no..." But Sora wouldn't look at him, and a sinking feeling was growing in the senior's chest as he realized the truth.

"There's someone else, isn't there?" The words rasped out as a harsh whisper, hooking and grappling with Sora's last defenses until the tears were flowing in earnest. Sora never could lie well, after all, and it was only love for the brunette that stopped him from grabbing his best friend's shoulders and shaking a name out of that delicate, white throat. "Who is it? Tell me, Sora!"

"Riku, I can't tell you, please, _stop—_"

"I don't understand this!" He burst out finally, tears long steeped in a cesspool of destruction forming crystals next to Sora's own. "I've been by your side since we were children, always watching out for you, always making sure you were safe! And then you disappear for a year, not calling or anything, and then you come back saying that you're seeing someone and won't even tell me who? What did I do wrong, Sora? Why..." his voice broke on the last words. "Why can't you love me?"

"Riku..." he could tell Sora was shaken by the force behind his words, and the brunette's arms were hesitant as they came to rest on his shoulders. "It doesn't matter if I'm seeing someone or not. I don't...I never felt anything like that for you, Riku. I know you want me to love you back, but I can't, even if someone else didn't have my heart. I'm sorry."

The truth was a stabbing, pricking thorn to the side, but he wasn't stupid and could see the pained honesty in his friend's eyes. He knew it now. Sora would never be his. "I understand," he said quietly, already ashamed of his outburst.

"We can still be friends, right?"

The brunette's voice was fearful. As if Riku could say no. "I'll always be your friend, Sora."

Sora smiled then, but it was a shyer, almost frightened smile, and there was a moment of awkwardness as they stood there on the sidewalk. Eventually, it was the Sidekick that broke it, vibrating on Sora's hip. There was a vaguely relieved expression on the brunette's face as he answered it and another pang struck Riku's heart.

"Hello? Yeah, I'm ready to go home...you could come too, if you want...I'm sure Roxas wouldn't mind...go left and we're about a block down...wait, what...he did _what_...really..._really_...then in that case, tell Leon that Riku says hi."

"Who are Cloud and Leon?" he asked when Sora hung up, curious and a little bemused.

"You don't know who Cloud is?" Sora asked indignantly. "Have you been living under a rock, Riku?"

This statement was so completely, undeniably _Sora _that the senior couldn't resist a snort. "Kinda."

Huffing, Sora crossed his arms, not bothering to answer the question. "And you know Leon already."

"I do?" he asked, bewildered. He'd never met a Leon.

"Sure." There was a wide, unusually crafty smirk on Sora's face that he really didn't like. "He was the guy you invited to your concert."

Inhalation ceased.

Riku remembered...he remembered the veiled curiosity in that boy's gray eyes that Tuesday he'd caught him practicing, could remember the intense stare they had shared while his voice twisted and coalesced into harmony with Selphie's, while his body channeled black and white. He'd been playing that song for Sora until the moment he happened to scan the crowd, and then his intent shifted and became something he didn't recognize. And Sora had known this Leon all along...but he loved Sora, up to the very moment that the junior had rejected him. So he didn't understand why...

...he was getting a migraine. Being eighteen sucked.

Flying snow and earsplitting noise suddenly interrupted his thoughts, and a sleek black motorcycle pulled up to the curb, its rider's face obscured by a helmet but obviously waiting for Sora. "I have to go now, Riku," Sora said quietly, taking the first steps backwards, noticeably anxious. "I'll talk to you later."

Riku waved, and then the bike was peeling from the curb, through the snow, down the street, and the certainty of what just happened settled in like the cold light of morning. The haze of the last year was lifting, slowly, but its absence was a bittersweet one, and wordlessly he trudged back down the street to Zodiac 13. Where this Leon was, apparently. But right now, all Riku cared about was drowning himself in peach rum.

It would be a long afternoon.

* * *

Roxas could safely say that he'd had a very good day. He'd spent the whole morning drawing, took a break for a lunch of Ramen noodles, and then the house had been filled with the scent of oil paints. He had several projects going on at once, and he'd spent the afternoon contentedly flitting between the three: one was a portrait of Sora, one a close-up of chess pieces—something he'd seen in a photograph and decided to paint—and one was of twilight. He wasn't expecting to finish any today, but all three were coming along well, especially since he was completely alone in the house. 

As much as he loved Sora, it was difficult to do anything remotely involving concentration when the brunette was around. Also being an artist, Sora had some respect for Roxas' work and tried his best to stay quiet, but it was hard for someone with the natural buoyancy he possessed to keep still for long. Admittedly, his illness had calmed him down a lot, but still. Besides, they were lovers, brothers, fellow students, and shared the same room: as much as they cared for each other, it did get a bit overwhelming. Ergo, he was happy for some space.

He hadn't been expecting his boyfriend back for a few hours yet, so when he heard the locks click, the scent of takeout, and dual voices, he put down his paintbrush and went to investigate. There was a tiny sparkle in Sora's eyes as he shed his jacket, and his earlier worries were quelled as the brunette stomped over and kissed him full on the mouth, paying their guest no mind. The gesture was unanticipated but not unwelcome, and as they pulled away he could only see vague disbelief on Cloud's face. Nothing else.

That was a good sign.

"You have paint on your face," Sora declared, handing him two cartons.

"Really?" Roxas replied mildly, keen nose detecting the smell of lettuce wraps and sticky rice. He loved lettuce wraps and sticky rice...

"We stopped at PF Chang's for you, even though they're, like, the Zodiac's main competition and Cloud said Leon was going to kill us..."

"Hello, Roxas," the senior spoke up. Roxas' respect for the older teen went up several notches—it was obvious to him by now that Cloud had pretty much accepted them, just like Sora said he would.

"Hey, Cloud."

"We're going to make cookies and talk about people," the brunette said cheerfully as he stepped out of his boots. "Wanna join us?"

"Maybe later, Sora. I want to get some more work done."

"M'kay. Suit yourself."

He kissed Sora this time, softly, slowly, and then retreated upstairs with his prizes as the kitchen door swung closed. His boyfriend was happy, he had lettuce wraps, and his paintings were coming together.

Yes, it was a very good day.

* * *

He'd followed the older boy to his younger friend's house, and he watched them now, unseen, as they laughed and made dough. He was pretty sure that neither would notice him, as he was wearing white—the amount of times he'd done so in his lifetime he could count on one hand—and his platinum hair and pale skin helped him to blend. His wish, as he continued to observe, was not to hurt either one, nor the smaller blonde he had seen upstairs, merely for reconnaissance and careful thought. 

Yazoo was on a...personal mission.

Christmas had been heaven, the days following a dream. The three of them together—they were learning how to love each other all over again, and while Kadaj was a victim and Loz inexperienced (and he doubted he'd be getting any in the near future), being able to kiss and hold his brothers without fear of reprisal was an experience that he wouldn't trade for the world. And so he felt the need to guard it. Protect it. Protect it until the day he died, protect it from any and all who sought to take it away from him.

Namely, Sephiroth.

But the situation appeared hopeless. They were housed, fed, and employed by one of the most powerful men in the world; if they tried to stir up trouble he would kill them without a second thought—they knew too much to be merely thrown out. And anyway, it wasn't as though anyone would believe their word over his. No one cared that Sephiroth was a rapist, all that mattered was that he could defend their cowardly hides should war come to pass. He'd examined every possible avenue he could think of—the police, child services, since Kadaj wasn't yet eighteen, even simply running away—and none of them seemed plausible. But, refusing to give up, he'd wracked his brains some more...until he came to rest on Cloud Strife.

Strife was strong, even if he had several...questionable habits. He'd managed to defeat Loz, who was their best in hand-to-hand combat—Kadaj excelled with weaponry and he was a medic. The middle child had been trained by Sephiroth himself, and yet he'd been taken down by a vertically challenged cross-dresser. It wasn't normal, and it intrigued him. And so, Yazoo had made it his business to find out everything he could about this Cloud Strife.

Birthday January 17, 17 years old, 5 foot 6 and one quarter, 145 pounds, blood type B positive, class average 96.3. Hacking into the boy's files wasn't particularly difficult. But it was what Yazoo had seen in the boy's files that had made him all the more interesting.

_Parental Status:_

_Father: Strife, N. (deceased)_

_Mother: Strife, C. (deceased)_

_Current Guardianship: _

_1. Fair, Z. _

_2. Fair, A. _

Fair, Z. He knew that name—he knew the man it belonged to. Lieutenant General Zackary Fair, who just happened to be Sephiroth's second-in-command, and a worthy adversary in his own right. He was the person closest to the General—and the only person who knew him well enough to be able to claim something against him and have his words carry weight.

The problem was, Fair, Z. was completely and totally devoted to his General, with absolutely no clue that Sephiroth was a sick pervert who liked to molest little boys. Thus, it would be impossible for Yazoo, a person who Zackary had never met, to be able to convince him otherwise.

Which was where Cloud came in.

_I must persuade him to help me, somehow, _Yazoo thought as he watched the blonde suckle batter from his fingers. _I've waited so long for Kadaj to be old enough, to trust us enough to be with us. And I refuse to let Nii-san hurt either one of them. I'm using the boy, yes, but it must be done to keep them safe..._

_I will protect what is mine, _was the last furious thought before he took a final look at the laughing pair and stole away into the night.

_I promised._


	21. Author's Note: Off Hiatus

**After much deliberation, I have decided to restart this story. **

**Truth be told - I miss it. Every time I go to my profile and see it there, unfinished, I feel guiltier and guiltier just thinking about how much I loved writing it. So, I have decided to simply pick up where I left off and see this story to the end. Absentis Consors, my short project, will eventually be completed, but for now I'm making Watercolor my first priority. Expect the next chapter up within the next two weeks.**

**Let's drink to a new beginning!**

**Miroir   
**


	22. XX: Sans Oxygène

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts **

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: None**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene, Leon x Riku**

**A/N: Wow. It's been a while, hasn't it? I just wanted to say that I missed you all terribly and the thought of what could have been was what drove me to recontinue this story. There was simply too much potential for something amazing for me to simply leave it alone - and here I am, how-many-weeks-months-whatever later to keep this going. I hope I still have some readers with how long I've been gone...**

**Anyway, this chapter has a little bit of everything - including something that a lot of people have been clambering for. Next chapter is the New Year's chapter, which will focus on the more mature characters (Rufus, Zack, etc). The chapter after that is an Organization XIII chapter - and Marly will return. Finally. **

**Dedicated to my wonderful beta, who is delighted to have her job back. And to everyone who decided to give me another chance.**

**Thank you. And enjoy. **

* * *

**XX: Sans Oxygène**

* * *

**December 28th—Monday**

* * *

Sora woke slowly, the lingering smell of baking cookies greeting him with its pleasant fragrance. Beside him, Roxas slept quietly, fatigue from yesterday's accomplishments entrapping the boy in a deep slumber. Rain was pounding outside, and the satisfaction one got from listening and knowing that one did not have to travel in it settled within the brunette—a feeling of quiet peace accompanying its presence.

He was too awake now to nod off again, and cast about for something to do. Deciding that a bath sounded nice, he disentangled himself from his brother's hold and tiptoed his way to the bathroom. As the water heated, the scent of strawberries soothed his senses from the bubbles he'd put in and with a contented sigh he eased himself in.

It was nice to have some alone time to think, he contemplated as he moved the washcloth in slow circles. Yes, he and Roxas had worked through the basis of their Riku issues—but despite the fact that the blonde understood, Sora was dreading his twin's reaction when Roxas was informed about yesterday. And then there was Cloud. The senior seemed to be okay with Sora's relationship, yet this bit of happy news didn't erase the increasing worry that he had for his friend's personal health. Sora hadn't thought that Reno would go that far and the last thing he wanted was to see his mentor hurt even worse. There was also a niggling curiosity in the back of his mind as to what had transpired between Leon and Cloud that rendered them the way they were.

To make matters even more complicated, he was almost positive that Kairi was up to something. Sure, his fears were mostly unfounded, but he'd known the redhead since elementary and she was not the type to let anything go. Also considering the fact that his parents were returning this afternoon—around the same time that he was due for an session—and that his father would get angry...

Already feeling his mood dampening, he brushed the mass of depressing thoughts from his mind—choosing instead to focus on something that he'd been considering.

His appointments with Minnie were something no one asked about. Sure, Roxas and Isabella were supportive, but they seemed to consider his appointments as Sora's personal business and so left the issue alone. Not that Sora minded, but...

Recently, he'd been getting the feeling that his relationship with Roxas needed reaffirmation. It had been through a lot lately, and the careful foundation of trust they had built was shaking for the first time. The blonde knew his secret self intimately: this was the only piece that Sora had withheld and he felt that it was time to trust his sibling with it. Perhaps this was the portion needed to make sure Roxas _knew_, to resurrect the state of vulnerability that had started their relationship in the first place.

The creaking of the bathroom door tapered off his train of thought.

Roxas looked adorably rumpled, his pajamas hanging off one shoulder, a tanned hand rubbing sleep from his eyes. Sora was greeted with a warm smile as the blonde padded over to sit on the bathtub's edge, and he could feel a familiarly deep love swelling within his chest. "Hey."

"Morning." Roxas squeezed his shoulder and rolled up his sleeves. "Do you want your hair washed?"

"Sure." He grabbed the shampoo from its resting place and handed it to his brother, gentle anticipation stirring within him. There was a snapping noise as Roxas popped the cap off, and then the blonde's magic fingers were working his scalp. The brunette's entire body seemed to melt beneath his boyfriend's touch, and with a happy sigh he felt his initial good mood returning.

The two were done with shampoo and halfway through conditioner before anyone spoke. 

"Hey, Roxas?"

"Yeah?"

"Um..." Sora's earlier resolve faltered and his mind seemed to go blank as he cast about for words to say. "I-I have an appointment this afternoon."

"I know. What about it?"

Roxas' voice was as tunefully serenading as ever while his hands were performing a deep massage on Sora's overused skull—it was all so _soothing_, a needed reminder of why he fought so hard to protect their prohibited love. Nervousness was suddenly replaced by an overwhelming, uncharacteristic shyness, and his voice was quiet when it came out next. "I was kinda wondering if you would come with me."

Roxas' hands paused and Sora really wished they hadn't, for his twin's ministrations were the only thing keeping him from fidgeting in the now lukewarm water.

"Are you sure about this, Sora? I mean..." The blonde's voice was careful, guarded. "You don't have to—"

"Roxas, I want to." Gently, he placed a dripping hand on his brother's thigh, not caring that it was wetting the material. "I want you to share this with me. I mean...you don't have to come every time I go, but I at least want you to know what it's like."

There was silence. And then Roxas _looked_ at him.

The rushing emotion in those cerulean depths pulled Sora in until he couldn't look away—Roxas' hands were covered in suds but that didn't stop the blonde from catching his chin to pull him in for a gentle kiss.

That was all the reassurance he needed.

* * *

Sometimes, Leon hated playing father.

Chantilly was remarkably well-behaved, considering her age. She hadn't protested when he'd come into her room early that morning and picked out uncomfortably numerous layers of clothing, insisting on a heavy jacket on top of it all to protect her small body. Breakfast had been simple cereal—simply because Leon could not find the energy to utilize the pancake mix—and the child had not complained once even though he'd seen her gazing at the box. Already, he'd dragged her to the supermarket for groceries, to the barber to endure an hour's wait so he could get his lengthening hair trimmed, and to the post office to mail off bills—and all without a single request for a break or a treat of some kind.

No, the issue did not lie in her company. It lay in the fact that some random woman had traipsed into their kitchen halfway through their morning meal, taken one look at them and said, "So these are the bitch's kids."

Indignation on behalf of his deceased mother had burned so brightly within him that only the fear of getting arrested and leaving Chantilly alone kept him from hitting her. The fact that their father had been standing in the doorway and said nothing only inflamed the brunette's anger until he all but rushed the two of them out of the house.

So, it was in silent apology that the duo pulled up at the music store.

"Go find something you like, Chantilly."

She had seized his hand at once and pulled him to the book section, where he was currently watching her browse through blank composer's books. The store was quiet—there were few people who had ventured out into the snow—and so Leon barely kept himself from jumping as a silky voice sounded behind him.

"I didn't know you shopped here, Leonhart."

Cloud's words came back with a vengeance as he turned around slowly to face the object of his contemplations.

_Promise to at least try with Riku, and I'll do it...I've never seen you like this and I like it, Leon..._he'd promised. And as he eyed the teen, dressed head to toe in black with silver hair gleaming on his shoulders, he decided that it was a vow he wouldn't mind keeping.

_It's only small talk, you've done this before... _

"I don't."

"Oh?" Riku shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a familiar smirk curling his pale pink lips. "So then, what brings you to a store selling items you would never use in the middle of the most snowfall Hollow Bastion's had in a decade?"

A small tug on his pant leg kept him from answering. " Leon?"

Chantilly held up her selection for his viewing and he flipped through it, observing the empty musical lines on the elegant pages and the cover with embossed butterflies. Of course, it was on the pricy size and he couldn't suppress a wince when he read the tag, but one glance at the quiet hope in the girl's gray eyes and Leon found himself nodding at her. Chantilly was the light of his life—only Cloud matched the child's importance—and the sight of her wide, rare smile made the price seem inconsequential.

The way her tiny fingers cradled the book to her chest warmed his heart a little and he gently patted her head. "You may have it."

Riku's eyes softened at the adorable scene, but his mind was at work. The child was obviously related to him, bangs and eyes and all. His more scandalous side considered the possibility of she being his illegitimate child (_with who, dumbass?_) but considering Leon's age she was too old. His sister or cousin, most likely. But, while an interesting tidbit of information, the little girl was not the main thought on Riku's mind.

He recalled yesterday's rejection with a new twinge of pain, but forced himself to look deeper into Sora's parting words. The artist obviously knew something about what had transpired at the concert and the pianist had no doubt that Sora's source was Cloud. Riku wasn't burrowed so deeply under a rock that he was unaware of the bond between the blonde and the scarred teen, and from their arrival and departure together he knew Sora and the senior were friends.

The concert...that connection. Even from across a crowded room he had felt _something_ poignant, _something_ that begged to be explored. Maybe Leon was the distraction he needed: after yesterday's brutal truths there was nothing he would like more than something else to dwell on.

"It's for her," the older brunette said.

Curiosity peaking once again, he approached the duo—taking note of the teen's every move as he drew nearer. The girl was now attempting to hide behind Leon's leg as she eyed the stranger warily and her coffee-colored bangs curtained the visible half of her face. Kneeling to her level, he offered a pale hand in her direction—hoping that he could maybe earn some brownie points with her brother. Besides, the child was obviously a musician, and the thought of teaching such a pretty student held infinite appeal...

"Hi, I'm Riku."

The girl only shied away, clutching handfuls of black material in her tiny little fists. Riku couldn't help but raise a questioning eyebrow. He wasn't that scary, was he?

"She doesn't like strangers."

Riku rose to his feet, brushing his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. "So it runs in the family?"

Happy that he'd garbled out something halfway intelligent, his heart seemed to beat a little faster as a smirk formed on Leon's face and he could tell he'd said the right thing.

"You're one to talk."

Their little witty moment was broken, once again, by the child. "Lee-Lee, m'hungry."

Leon's mind worked furiously. He wasn't due at work for another two hours, but his sister was hungry now and he knew exactly where she'd want to go. He'd just been handed an opportunity to spend time with Riku that he was sure he'd never get again: school started in five days and he'd be right back to his normal crowded schedule.

_But he doesn't know me. And I was a bitch to him when we first spoke._

His inner self promptly began to scream in Cloud's shrillest voice. _Does he look angry to you? He approached you first, didn't he? What the fuck are you waiting for? _

"Would...you like to have lunch with us, Riku?"

There. That sounded nice and practical—his sister was hungry and Riku was a friend (_since when?_) and asking was only the polite thing to do...

Riku himself was pleasantly surprised. Leon sounded uncertain, and the anxious look on the usually stoic brunette's face was nothing short of endearing. It was obvious that he wasn't used to this sort of thing, and suddenly the memory of their first meeting seemed so _inaccurate_: this was not the Leon he had spoken to.

_This_ was the Leon who had _touched _him with a single glance, this was the Leon who protected his own with a quietly powerful strength—this was the Leon who stood nervously before him now, extending an invitation to what could be a happier future.

As if he'd say no.

* * *

**Tuesday **

* * *

It had stopped snowing, and only a nippy breeze caressed Cloud's cheeks as he sat on the cleared-off park bench. Yes, it was chilly—but for him the cold was purely internal as he waited for Reno to show. Catching his cousin's eye, Zack shot him a thumbs-up from his hiding place behind a bush, his face glowing with delighted enthusiasm.

How he wished he was feeling that upbeat. His heart was telling him that he was doing the right thing, but that didn't improve his mood any.

Leon had cheerfully called last night (a voice with actual _emotion _ Leon's version of cheerful) bearing news of his run-in and subsequent afternoon with Riku. Apparently they'd had a good time talking, and Chantilly had taken well to the boy. She'd even started her own conversation, shyly speaking about her musical experience when she found out Riku played. Cloud's own announcement had only improved the brunette's disposition.

Yes, Leon hung up that phone as one happy clam.

But Cloud had called Tifa afterwards and _really _talked to her, saying all the things he'd avoided saying to preserve Leon's rare contentment: how afraid he was of Reno's reaction, how everyone seemed to be finding happiness but him, how lonely he was and would continue to be. Her words had given him some much-needed courage and in the end, he felt better for having spoken to her.

That didn't stop the nervousness now that the moment had come, however.

A head of vibrant red hair was visible down the path, and Cloud's heart began to race as it neared. Aside from their brief conversation over the phone to arrange this meeting, Cloud hadn't spoken to Reno since the Christmas fiasco and he had no idea how the redhead felt about it. Luck seemed to be on Cloud's side, however, for when Reno got close enough for the blonde to see his face there was a look of sincere regret there.

_It's too late now, Reno,_ he thought sadly.

"_Cloud_..." Reno's voice was soft, and he touched the bruises on the blonde's wrists with an almost reverent air. Bitterly, Cloud recalled the last time Reno had been so gentle with him—the first month of their relationship. The best month of his life...

"Don't kiss me, Reno."

The redhead, who had been leaning in, stopped and shot him a contrite look. "Cloud, I'm _sorry, _yo I didn't—I shouldn't have attacked you like that."

"No, you shouldn't have."

"Cloud, please don't be like this—"

" Reno, I've had enough." Slowly, he extracted himself from the redhead's hold and watched realization dawn within those bright green depths. "You don't have...you're not what I need anymore—"

"I said I was sorry, yo!" Reno yelled, and from the corner of his eye Cloud saw Zack getting ready to jump at the teen. Those violet eyes were a little _too_ bloodthirsty and despite the fact that Reno made a horrible boyfriend it was not his wish to see the redhead hurt.

"There you go, getting upset when things don't go your way," Cloud said quietly. "You've always been like that. Then you say sorry and then do it again. I'm tired of apologies."

Reno had never been with someone quite like Cloud, and he doubted that he would ever find someone who fit with him so well—there had to be a way to change Cloud's mind. "Please, Cloud. _Please,_ yo. Stay with me and it'll be different, I promise—"

"No it won't, Reno." Cloud took a deep, cleansing breath, the beginnings of tears shimmering in his cerulean eyes.

"I'm breaking up with you."

The words fell upon the air and were immediately swept away, leaving heavy silence in their quivering wake. And the redhead could see a fire starting, right there between the emerald flecks that dotted those azure eyes. Its smoke was _poison_ that wrapped round Reno's heart like a noose and it _hurt_ because he could not remember a single instance of Cloud looking at anyone like that. Such toxicity within such an innocent stare.

All put there by him.

Words and feelings and thoughts he couldn't justify frothed and crashed together within him, cracking and decaying—the weight of unsaid phrases weakened him and retrospect began to set in. He had wasted time he could have spent happy, searched Earth a thousand times while there was _someone_ sleeping somewhere cold beside a phone that would never ring. Now he was losing that someone. And in the end, he had found nothing.

Nothing at all.

So he turned around and walked away. And left Cloud standing there, within his cousin's arms, to mourn the end of an era amidst newly-fallen snow.


	23. XXI: Auld Lang Syne

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts **

**Chapter Rating: R**

**Chapter Warnings: Lemon, Disturbing Content**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene, Leon x Riku**

**Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Square Enix and Disney. None of them are mine, with the exceptions of Isabella Akiyama, Yashiro Akiyama, Chantilly Leonhart, and Jammy the Chocobo.**

**A/N: Well, here's chapter 21! I decided to let the older crowd in this fic have some face time for once: they're usually only mentioned in passing. I figured they deserved some attention. You may or may not notice that I left out Sora's mom—in the draft she had a part, but I took it out. Don't worry, though, you'll see more of her later.**

**This is the New Year chapter, after this they're back in school—and Marly returns! That's right, the next chapter is an Organization XIII chapter, which may or may not include XemSai action. I'm leaning towards including them. It all depends on my mood...which will of course be bolstered if people review. –smile- **

**Chapter 23 will mostly be transitional events, nothing really major. But the chapter after THAT...someone goes on a date. The first person who can guess who it is will get that chapter dedicated to them.**

**That's right.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**XXI: Auld Lang Syne**

* * *

**Wednesday, December 31st**

* * *

Booted feet seemed to glide along muted stone walls, the owner of said feet walking through the halls of his home with a superior air. He had risen in a rather good mood, sent his little spies on their way with data to collect, and then made the journey to his workplace and his comfortably heated office. Work had been pleasantly slow—even for peacetime—only a single folder had been dropped into his inbox to peruse and sign before he was able to return to his own ruminations. Now he was at home with three fat envelopes of crucial information resting on his antique oak desk.

It was only fitting, then, that he should treat himself after such a productive day. The hot tub in the basement was calling his name.

As the general walked downstairs he passed a door ajar, the muffled sounds of voices and running water filtering through. Kadaj, it seemed, was bathing, Yazoo perched on the edge of the large Jacuzzi and running a soft washcloth around his brother's shoulders. Images of Kadaj's slender body writhing beneath him came to mind and Sephiroth shuddered, curlicues of new arousal contorting to race within his blood.

Giving a satisfied hum at the tempting sight, he continued on his way.

Clothes were folded neatly and placed upon the counter, a soft-looking mail shirt clinking gently as it touched the marble surface. The chopsticks holding his bun together were removed and he shook his hair out, noting quietly that it was now to his ankles and would soon require a trim. By now the water was nice and hot, and a series of soft but contented sighs escaped him when he let its depths envelope his body.

Things were going swimmingly. Almost all of the required pieces were in place for his next maneuver, Zack suspected nothing, his primary goal was now within reach—and his pets were behaving. Thoughts of the silver-haired trio again filled his mind, and Sephiroth allowed himself a moment to reminisce.

Acquiring them had served a triple purpose—securing his image in society as a caring individual instead of a killing machine (which made life _so_ much easier), ensuring that the gratitude of his charges would compel them to do all that he asked without question, and giving him a reason to live in a home of his choosing instead of his room at base camp. Six years of his life had been dedicated into turning them from unrefined orphans to a destructive force. The fact that they shared an easily manipulated bond was a bonus that he used to keep them in line.

The six hour fuck fest of two weeks ago had more than validated this method.

With a near silent moan, Sephiroth gave into his body's urges with the view of a few minutes ago filling his mind's eye. An aristocratic hand toyed with his own pert nipples, external and internal heat melding to spark a raging fire spawned from a vision of lust. Memories were recalled to life and remembered pleasure fueled the present—a practiced hand curled around his length as his mind fixated upon the youngest.

Kadaj's blood had been everywhere, the general recalled as he began to stroke himself. He'd divested the teen of his clothing with a feral speed before falling upon him in earnest, whipping the boy with a metal-encrusted whip before forcing his length down his victim's throat. The feeling of Kadaj spluttering and labored breaths on his cock coupled with the slick feeling of blood pooled in the teenager's mouth—he gave his nipple a sharp squeeze and his hips thrust instinctively as he remembered the boy's cries.

The general had come all over Kadaj's face, watching his semen mix with blood and thinking that the color pink never looked so appealing. He'd gathered the mixture on the tip of his fingers and shoved them into the teenager's mouth, forcing him to swallow it. His fingers had then made the journey to the boy's orifice, pulling and pinching broken skin on his way down before he made a mockery of preparation. Sephiroth's memory vividly resurrected the feeling of tissue tearing around him as he buried himself within the teen's body. And the screams, oh, the _screams_—they had been brought forth from that pretty little throat without measure as his aching cock dragged itself from abused flesh—only to return seconds later and refresh the boy's agony.

His pace increased.

Thoughts of the others filled his mind—Loz with his strong arms, built figure and powerful frame. It would be nothing short of thrilling to feel such a large man submit to him, reduced to the screams of a little girl as Sephiroth plundered him without mercy. Yazoo's delicate figure would be another delightful conquest, the hair that glistened like spider's silk in dewdrops clinging with sweat to his pretty face—those hands so gentle from healing the human body wrapping themselves around his aching cock—

A sound like the rumbling of thunder over mountains escaped the general's throat as climax overtook him, semen escaping in pearly ribbons to dilute the surrounding water. Pleasant aftershock sparked within him as he coaxed the last drops from himself and lay in contented bliss.

This next year would be a good one, Sephiroth thought with satisfaction as he came down from his high. After years of planning, everything would come to fruition.

He could hardly wait.

* * *

Zexion couldn't suppress a satisfied moan as he pulled out of his partner's hot body, the sheets below him enveloping his heated body as he collapsed within their depths. Periwinkle met and mingled with dirty blonde as the teenager took him into his arms, kissing him lightly before falling into a sated sleep. The older man smirked to himself as he lay within the other's embrace—he'd never thought that being so short could actually work to his advantage.

But it'd certainly been enough to lure the committed blonde to his bed last month. God knew he needed a little excitement.

Honestly, Zexion was bored. He was twenty-four years old with nothing to show for it. He could have finished college by now and been well into medical school with perhaps someone special on the side. Instead, he was stuck in a dead-end job doing basic customer service for a computer company—listening to people bitch and whine at him all day about technical issues that could have been fixed by common sense. Every day he came home, tired and pissed off to find an empty fridge and an emptier bed. His only solace came in constant vigilance: watching the one who had ruined his life around the clock and waiting for an excuse to wreak the smallest vengeance, waiting, waiting...

The bluenette's lip curled as he thought of his worthless younger brother.

If only Saïx had worn a goddamn jacket that day...maybe Zexion's degree would be hanging proudly in his bedroom at home while he studied genetics at a prestigious university instead of watching their inheritance money trickle towards the mortgage. Every month was a struggle to save a pittance and Zexion knew that it was only a matter of time before they'd have to move. He couldn't even take classes at—shame of all shames—_community_ _college_ because he'd been working so hard to get the bills paid.

Saïx was paying his own freaking way to college. The boy way a junior—he had a whole year to put in some time on his back before he had to start worrying about applications.

The boy holding him stirred, and with uncharacteristic gentleness he brushed sweaty blonde strands from his partner's face. He could vividly recall the night he'd met the teenager: loudly protesting the loss of a poker game to another blonde teenager with facial hair and a devious smile. It had been obvious that the boy was new to the whole club scene, and so Zexion had endeavored to make himself appear as small and innocent so as not to scare him off.

The flickering strobe lights on the darkened dance floor had created an illusion of decadent privacy. It was there that he'd worked his practiced charms—sufficiently intoxicating and dominating the blonde enough to take him home.

Apparently, his conquest was an emotional drunk. And after a few bouts of admittedly amazing sex, Demyx (a name which he ashamedly hadn't known until afterwards) had broken down and confessed he was involved with someone else.

Zexion could not remember feeling more awkward in his life—he was used to waking up and finding his partners dressed and calling their rides. Instead, the bluenette had been treated to a sordid love story amidst a flow of rapid tears. After a while, he'd managed to calm the teen down, and Demyx had sniffled and apologized for sobbing all over him.

At that moment, he didn't know what the hell had possessed him to ask for Demyx's number. But he had, and a month later he had happily discovered that—when not drunk or crying hysterically—the blonde was okay to be around. He didn't really mind the fact that he was being used as an outlet for frustration because, really: they used one another and were better off for it.

Zexion glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 9:53 on New Year's Eve. His last thought before he joined his bedmate in slumber was a hope that the New Year would suck a little less.

* * *

A bottle of Pinot Noir was, again, his sole companion as Rufus Shinra settled in for the night. Scarlet lay in his lap, her small blonde head resting against his shoulder with a forgotten mug of hot chocolate resting on the table before them. He had been reading, but had given up the pursuit in favor of staring out his window at the flurries falling outside. They had more than fulfilled their quota of snow for the year and he couldn't help but think that this was a bit overkill.

Another year, passed so quickly...

Nothing even seemed to change, save his age. At 28, he was the head of a successful military force masquerading as a power company—with no enemy to battle. Paperwork was at a minimum, so much so that going to the office was nothing more than an exercise in slothfulness. He had no significant other to speak of (an interest, yes, but little chance with it), had accomplished everything he wanted to and had the money to prove it, and so had no other pursuit than to live vicariously through the young people around him.

Cloud and Reno were prime examples of that pitiful fact.

Rufus had to say that he was pleased to be counted as a dear confidante to such a sweet teenager. He'd received a tearful call from the younger blonde about his breakup with Rufus' nephew a full two hours before Reno had come by to spend the night—strangely sober. While he was happy that Cloud had taken his indirect advice, it was not his desire to see either boy miserable.

There was no way around it, however, and so he resolved to keep this period as comfortable as possible for Reno. Rufus had no doubt that Lieutenant General Fair would do the same for his charge.

The girl in his lap stirred, and he stroked her head with a gentle hand until she fell still. Yet another thing to be grateful for—the girl would probably have been mutilated, or traumatized or hurt in other irreparable ways if Cloud hadn't been so vigilant. No one, probably not even Reno, realized the extent of his love for Scarlet: she was the only thing in the life that hadn't been tainted by lust for power and the stain of dirty munny. Rufus would pay any price to keep her that way, to prevent her from having the childhood that he'd had.

Despite her silence and general obedience, Rufus knew that the mind of a Shinra rested beneath that amethyst-azure gaze. Scarlet observed the world around her with keen senses, categorizing and calculating as she went, and the older blonde could only hope that he would be around to watch her grow into the lovely young lady he knew she would become.

So far, he'd managed seven years. And to the rhythm of the celebratory screams that had overtaken Hollow Bastion, Rufus Shinra prayed for more.

* * *

January seventeenth.

_Janseventeenthjanseventeenthjanseventeenth..._

It ran circles in the man's head, trailing saccharine memories of smiles, butterfly kisses and broken hearts behind it. A singular dot grouped with 364 other dots divided and subdivided exactly like it, in its entirety amounting to not even a drop in the bucket of time. And yet he fixated upon this labeled section of hours with an almost obsessive concentration that hadn't been felt since his days in medical school. The reason for such focused rumination was one that he was almost ashamed to admit, but Vincent Valentine had never been one to delude himself.

Those piercing blue eyes wouldn't have let him if he tried.

Quietly, as if sensing that her master was deep in thought, Jammy clambered into his lap with a silent plea for attention. Vincent patted her mint green feathers absentmindedly, sparing a thought as to how much less empty the house seemed with a pet around. But of course, musings of who had gifted him so thoughtfully brought back the issue with full-frontal force.

At this point, there was no escaping it, no escaping _him_ and no escaping the feeling that had Vincent craving a hot-blooded workout—more than he could ever recall desiring something of the sort. Even the rampant wantonness of his teenage years did not touch the things that raged through him now.

It was more than simple lust: this he knew and acknowledged as he acknowledged the fact that the living breathed. He'd laid hands upon the boy's body, felt the planes and contours of firmly soft flesh while their owner lay motionless and felt nothing but a deep concern. Somehow, sympathy and idle appreciation had evolved into a deep desire to bring the spots of joy and fulfillment to someone else that he himself was missing and thirsted for.

In the end, reality—that cruel mistress—was the only thing tempting him away from his goal. January seventeenth...on that date the laws of their city become inconsequential to Vincent's pending actions—but that fact did not stop him from feeling any less of a shameless pervert. His thirty-second birthday had passed a few months prior while the object of his affections hadn't even hit drinking age. While Cloud Strife (even _thinking_ the name was satisfying and Vincent's body gave a pleasant shudder) was mature in mentality, his spirit was still that of a growing adolescent with much left to see in the world. Knowing that, could Vincent in his right mind seek to chain down such promise with the weight of his own emotions?

It was at times like this that he wished Lu was here.

His dearest friend—stolen away by the soft brown earth that hid her wasted beauty from the world. They'd met so many years among stacks of looseleaf and dusty periodicals, a companionship started by her desire to extend kindness to the worst of recluses. She'd offered him a slice of red velvet cake, her smile adding a new sheen to the rows of fading spines, and their fingers had brushed. It was the start of something new.

Lucrecia had been the type of woman who was welcomed in any crowd with open arms. To this day Vincent could not comprehend how she'd flawlessly juggled so many items on her agenda: keeping everyone around her happy was a job that required constant toil. He'd been privileged, once upon an April afternoon, to see her drop all her books on the carpet and collapse in a fit of frustrated tears. It was then that he knew that his Lu was human too, and fallible: yet this fact only endeared him all the more to her flaws.

Two years later they found out just how mortal she really was.

It was the memory of her sweet voice as she uttered her last words that brought long-gathered liquid to his scarlet eyes. She'd known it was coming: said she could hear the battle for her soul raging at the back of her mind. Vincent had covered his face, not wanting her to see him cry—but precious Lu had lain his head on her breast with weakening hands and let him sob it all out.

Lucrecia's voice had been faint, but filled with resolve in her heartfelt plea for him to find another love. Vincent had made her that promise, one he hadn't been sure he could keep, but wanting to do anything to give her absolution.

She'd been smiling when she slipped away.

That promise sang softly in her dulcet tones twelve lonely years later. It almost felt as if she was there in that library again extending not just cake but new opportunity—a chance for happiness that he thought he'd never recapture. Sure, he found fulfillment in his medical practice, but what were accomplishments with no one to share in them?

_Janseventeenthjanseventeenthjanseventeenth..._

The first of the fire works were silhouetting new beginnings when he finally heeded Lucrecia's words. _Don't think, Vincent._ _Just feel._

And he intended to do just that.

* * *

Zack was ecstatic—Zack was over-the-freaking-moon happy as he danced his wife around their living room on New Year's Eve. They'd just enjoyed a wonderful dinner courtesy of Aerith followed by a rich rum cake that Cloud had made at Thanksgiving and fed daily using cookie cutters to pour alcohol in swirling patterns. Said blonde sat curled on the loveseat in Leon's arms, watching them with a small smile and an afghan tucked tightly around his shoulders. It concealed the child sleeping on his chest, two sets of gentle hands rubbing slow circles on her back. This welcome sight only served to improve the lieutenant's mood.

It was exactly how things ought to be.

Granted, Cloud had told him numerous times that a relationship with the stoic brunette was impossible for reasons too personal to disclose. But for the past two days Leon and his sister had been near-permanent fixtures in the Fair/Strife household—and Zack positively _adored_ it like that. Sure, Cloud felt that way _now_, but after the ill-disguised affection and gentle care that he'd been showered with there was no way the blonde wouldn't change his mind. The beautiful child currently serving as teddy duty would only be an added bonus...

Zack grinned.

Aerith couldn't suppress a giggle at her husband's expression: his thoughts were clearly showcased on his face. While the woman knew perfectly well that Zack's fantasies would never be fulfilled, she allowed her husband his rampant dreams. It was so _easy_, even after knowing the truth, to delude oneself otherwise and so the lieutenant couldn't be blamed. The three even looked like a small _family_ sitting there like that, and the lost possibilities clawed at Aerith's heart and made it ache.

She too had heard Cloud's feelings regarding Leon but she simply wanted to know _why..._

Not even she could have predicted the total domination of her charge's recovery that Leon had taken upon himself. From Zack's pillow-talk account, the encounter hadn't been pretty. Both had expected Cloud to barricade himself in depressed solitude with a week's worth of Lucky Charms and not come out. Instead, Leon had used the wiles of a first grader to bait the blonde from his seclusion and masterfully kept him from regressing.

Aerith would give her right arm to know the boy's secret.

"Oh, the fireworks are starting!" Zack cooed excitedly, pulling her to stand by the window. She watched with quiet contentment as Cloud shook the child from her slumber and whispered in her ear. Within minutes the trio had joined them to see the picturesque sight, and Chantilly's eyes were alight with wonder as the loud explosions produced dazzling displays of color.

As the three watched the show and the couple watched them, Zack's arms found their way around her waist. Their eyes met and held, sharing a communication only possible through true understanding before their lips met gently.

Sure, things weren't exactly perfect, but they were damn near close. And for now, the two would settle for that.

With any luck, the New Year would see them even better.


	24. XXII: End of the Beginning

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts **

**Chapter Rating: PG**

**Chapter Warnings: None**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene, Leon x Riku**

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this up. I got writer's block, got sick, and then got snowed in with work. I had a nice, long AN for you guys to read, but the internet ate it and I'm feeling too ill to type it all out again. You'll get your news next chapter. There's going to be a date in it. Yay. Oh, and read my apology fic - Rylynn. I hope you guys like it.  
**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**XXII: End of the Beginning**

* * *

Marluxia could not remember the last time he'd been so drunk.

A hangover the size of Hiroshima pounded away in his hazy brain, every noise in the room sounding like multiple explosions to his sensitive ears. The brightness of his vibrant hair seemed dull this morning, matching the pasty discoloration of his skin and his bloodshot eyes. The words on the page before him seemed to dance, ink swirling in confusing patterns that did little to ease his suffering. Not even the mercy of an aspirin had been granted: his mother has viciously locked the medicine cabinets—all twenty-seven of them—when he stumbled home at 3AM.

Luxord's complete lack of sympathy for his plight didn't exactly help, and he'd received more than a few curious stares as he made his way through the halls. But the note dropped in his locker, bearing two short but endlessly important words made the hell that had been his winter vacation worthwhile.

_You passed._

The monotone drone of Mr. Rodney's voice came to an abrupt halt as the shrill sound of creaking hinges screeched through the room. Long, long legs clad in white stockings and leather knee-high boots elegantly strode up to the professor's desk, depositing a neatly folded note on the gleaming cherry surface.

Marluxia's pen slipped out of his hand to fall upon the ground with a small clatter, but its owner paid no mind as Larxene Lefaure took her seat.

He hadn't seen her since they'd had lunch together before school ended. His heart beat rapidly and began to flutter at the sight of her: her outfit consisted of a genuine-looking Lolita dress that was cut to show the tempting swell of her breasts. Her usual ruby gemstone hung proudly in the midst of all that pale skin, and a hand encased in softly crinkling velvet gloves played unconsciously with it as its counterpart rifled her purse for a pen. As usual, she was stunning, and he was unpleasantly reminded of his current lackluster appearance when presented with her beauty.

He knew he would have to speak to her about his ordeal—every painful throb of his brain trying to escape his skull reminded him of it. After all, she was the one who had written the innocent address on his all-too-willing skin that had served as a catalyst for his vacation from hell—which made his ordeal directly her fault. But he refused to believe that she would be so cruel without reason, especially when her vivid viridian eyes caught him staring and her mouth curled into a sensual cross of a smirk and a smile.

Despite the hangover that still raged a tempest behind his eyes, Marluxia turned back to his work feeling a little lighter.

* * *

She checked the flashing screen and flipped the phone open with an air of satisfaction, voice laced with the tone of a cat that had gotten the canary, the cream and the Christmas turkey. Snow whirled around the car in playful eddies, and not for the first time she blessed the heating that warmed her and thawed her freezing feet.

"It's been a while."

And indeed it had: she was not unaware of his desire and subsequent courting of their bluenette classmate. As a result of his distraction, things in their realm had gotten slightly out of control and he along with her family had spent vacation putting errant people in line. She couldn't fault him for it, though—two of a force that was needed for more productive use had been putting her own suitor to the grindstone.

"So it has."

"I heard from Vexen. Your little boytoy managed to scrape through."

Neither Xemnas nor herself were stupid or unobservant: both had seen the pink-haired teen's affections months before he had said anything. Marluxia had passed because of sheer determination—God knew that the rich pretty boy had no prior experience with their sort of decadence—and that alone told Larxene that he meant business. It created an avenue she was now free and perfectly willing to explore.

Sakano was amusing, to say the least.

"So I've heard. And allow me to regress for a minute by saying that _I told you so._"

"_Hey_." She could almost see his hands raising in self-defense. "The dude's hair is _pink_. Forgive me for thinking he's not the toughest kid around."

"True." It felt nice to talk to Xemnas like this—their friendship had been bogged down with so many other things that simply poking into each other's business was a welcome reprieve. "Any progress with Saïx?"

"Some. We're driving up to an observatory in a few weeks. Some moon thing he wants to see."

Larxene's musical laugh tinkled in the darker one's ear. "How cute."

The sound of shifting fabric came through the line as she pulled into her driveway, cutting the engine and crossing her legs on the passenger seat. The car felt simply too nice to move just yet. "Is your mother still angry with me?"

His inquiry was a tricky one and she adjusted her position as she tried to find a way to answer. "Not angry as much as disappointed. You've never slipped like that before."

"True." He didn't sound the least bit sorry. "I've worked hard since I was named as your parents' heir. I think I'm entitled to a break every once in a while."

"To chase blue-haired boys," she deadpanned, tapping out a rhythm with fine rouge fingernails on the phone's small body.

"Something like that," he replied, amused. "Hey, Lefaure?"

"Hmm?"

"I have a job for you."

Interested, she sat up a little straighter. The seat was beginning to get uncomfortable in her sideways perch and the car door against her back was cooling down—but she paid neither any mind. "Oh?"

"I want you to do some research on a Luxord Cromwell."

"Sakano's blonde friend?" She had seen the suave blonde several times around school, and he was always in the company of either a girl or Marluxia himself. Larxene never visited Cracked Key—a popular place for students to play pool and cards in Traverse's East Side—but she'd heard several rumors that the Englishman was quite the gambling legend.

"Yeah. I see something that in him I like, for some reason. Use Sakano, if you have to. I know those two are close."

For some reason, the thought of using Marluxia's affections didn't sit well with Larxene. "He knows nothing about what we do, Xemnas. That's not exactly fair."

"And since when have you bothered with fair, Larxene?"

"If Delune stays out,"—she almost _heard _him tense up—"then so does Sakano. _Don't_ play favorites with me."

She had him there. And they both knew it. "...fine."

"Oh, cheer up, Xemnas. I'll get what you need, don't worry."

"Whatever, Larxene. I'll talk to you later."

Click.

Across town, Xemnas tossed the phone onto the nightstand and closed his eyes, sighing. She had tried to placate his obvious mistake, but his ego was still bruised and it was entirely his fault. If he had been his old self, he would have thought nothing of using people for the sake of business—and now he was allowing his business partner to close avenues for her own amours. A few months ago he wouldn't have cared about Marluxia being totally innocent. Or Saïx for that matter, if it ever came down to that.

She'd been able to sense his weakness for the bluenette _over the_ _phone_ and twist it to suit herself.

Was he being softened that much?

* * *

They were a functional duo, teacher and student—masculine hands held a large test tube steady while a daintier pair poured barium nitrate in. The glass made a small chiming sound as it was slipped into the wooden rack, snug and cozy next to potassium chlorate.

It was the simplest of jobs—setting up lab chemicals intended for sophomore chemistry—yet one that required assistance from someone who knew what they were doing.

"Dilute the hydrochloric acid again by ten, would you, Leon?"

He nodded, and Professor Aizawa shot him a smile before walking off to the supply closet.

Chantilly was probably home by now, he mused as he measured out the right amount of water. His father, at least, was vigilant about picking up the first grader from the after-school program Leon had put her in at her teacher's request. The little girl's social skills weren't developing correctly at all, and he was seriously beginning to worry about her.

Cloud took up another section of his familial woes—the blonde had seemed happy at New Years, but had fallen right back into depression. Granted, it was nowhere near as bad as the days immediately following the breakup and the blonde knew he'd made the right decision. Still, it had to sting. He had to remember to get the blonde something nice for his birthday in two weeks...

He fiddled idly with a glass stirring rod, having completed his task and awaiting instructions. Unbidden, his mind drifted to Riku and he felt a gentle flush settle over his body as he remembered the flowing silver hair and intelligent jade eyes. Their spur-of-the-moment rendezvous over the holiday break still echoed in his head and he had to stop himself from grinning like a moron whenever he thought of it.

Somehow, having Chantilly there only seemed to enrich the quaint scene.

The last time he'd stayed late, Riku had been practicing in the music room, which had spurred their fateful first meeting. Perhaps he'd be there today?

Unable to repress a small smile, Leon turned back to the desk.

* * *

It was around 7PM that the phone rang.

Aerith looked up from where she was making rice balls, hands dripping with salt water and the stickiness of the rice gluing her fingers together. The knobs on the sink made a creaking noise as she twisted them, and her hands were still dripping when she grabbed the phone from its cradle. "Hello?"

"Good evening. Might I speak to Aerith Fair?"

The voice that replied was smooth and silky, conjuring up promises in one's mind of dark rooms and voiceless moans. It was also familiar, and in _her_ mind brought up an image of tears and spiteful print.

"Speaking. Is this Dr. Valentine?"

"Yes, it is I. If you are not busy at the moment, I have something that I would like to discuss with you."

Curiosity piqued, she spread paper towels over the finished balls and the bowl of rice and went into the den to speak. Zack was upstairs catching a nap, Cloud was doing homework, and the house was relatively quiet. "I'm free to talk. What's on your mind, Doctor?"

"Please, call me Vincent."

Crossing her ankles, she got comfortable. "Vincent, then."

"Firstly, I wanted to inquire as to your charge's wellbeing."

"Oh, Cloud?" A frown fixed itself to her normally smiling face. At this point, Aerith was on the verge of calling Leon's father and demanding that the boy live with them if only to keep her cousin-in-law remotely cheerful. "He...isn't doing as well as I'd like."

"Oh?" She heard what sounded like warking in the background as the doctor spoke. _Funny, I don't remember him having a chocobo._ An image of Cloud holding a suspicious-looking cage flashed in her mind's eye, but was forgotten with Vincent's question. "May I be so bold as to ask why?"

Biting her lip, she contemplated what to say. Technically, this was family business—but she was at her wit's end with the blonde. Perhaps another opinion would be of some use?

"He broke up with his boyfriend recently. From what I was told it was rather messy."

On the end of the line, Vincent felt his hope for the situation rise dramatically. While he didn't like the hopelessness that he was hearing in Aerith's voice, his plans would be a lot easier with that revelation.

"I take it that the event was detrimental to his state of mind?"

"Even his friend Leon is having difficulty helping him at this point," she admitted sadly.

"Then perhaps you would not be as adverse to my proposal as I initially thought."

Aerith sat up a bit straighter. "This proposal being...?"

Vincent took a deep breath, and his voice was tinged with a note of uncertainty when he next spoke. "I was wondering if it would be permissible for me to take Cloud to a place of my choosing in celebration of his eighteenth birthday."

Aerith almost entered cardiac arrest.

Vincent wanted to take Cloud on a date.

_Vincent_ wanted to take _Cloud_ on a _date_.

In her state of mixed shock and euphoria, it took a while for her to realize that the doctor was still speaking.

"—will be of age, but that being seen in such a manner could have social ramifications. I thought it would be prudent to gain permission before attempting such a thing."

Several thoughts entered her mind as the doctor went silent—the first being the man's age. Had more than a decade on _her_ and she had two years on Cloud. But Cloud seemed to like Vincent, if the realization of who his mystery Christmas gift had been for was any indicator. Vincent also hadn't harmed her charge when he had been injured and at the man's mercy—a brownie point for him.

And maybe she was reading this wrong: it could simply be that the doctor wanted to make friends with a young person he found interesting. Much like Rufus Shinra.

Aerith couldn't help but wonder what Cloud had that attracted older men.

"Well, eighteen is supposed to be big, but I doubt he will want a party in his current state. I suppose it wouldn't hurt for him to go somewhere special. We could always give him his presents beforehand..." she mused, unaware that Vincent was mentally restraining himself from dancing like a moron across town. "Did you have any specific place in mind?"

"Well," the doctor began, composure restored, "in light of recent events I thought it would be a bad idea to venture too far into the public eye. So I was thinking..."

As they conversed and the night wore on, Aerith made a mental note to send something nice to the cleaners.

Cloud would need it.


	25. XXIII: Do The Motion

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts **

**Chapter Rating: PG**

**Chapter Warnings: Crossdressing**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene, Leon x Riku**

**A/N: Well, here's THE BIG DATE, as promised. Sorry it took so long, but school had me snowed in - yet again.**

**In a way, this is an apology - the next chapters aren't cheerful at all. The preliminaries for each plotline have been set, and the drama is finally starting to unfold. I have the outline already made for the next few installments, and I'm looking forward to writing them. I hope you'll forgive me...I'll try to insert as much happy as I can amid the heavy angst. **

**Side note: The Bolshoi is a famous theater in Russia. Yes, the Apollo statue is sculpted on top of it. I took the theater's structure from the Bolshoi, but the actual performance mentioned was done on Broadway. Yes, Avenue Q is a real musical with next to no plot. The song "If You Were Gay" that I adore comes from it.  
**

**I love it. Listen to it. Listen to it NAO.  
**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**XXIII: Do The Motion**

* * *

**Saturday—January 17th**

* * *

His keys jingled merrily as he fitted them into the lock, letting both of them into the house and closing the door. Shopping bags fell to the floor with an audible thump, and the blonde was only just able to notice both his guardians before his vision was obscured.

Cloud hummed as Leon's arms encircled him, butterfly kisses falling on his forehead in an effort to provide a distraction from his throbbing earlobe. Somewhere behind them, he just _knew_ Zack was smirking, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he relaxed into the brunette's hold.

The introduction of Leon and the twins' joint gift had been painful, but Cloud had to admit that the new wolf-like earring did suit him. Sora and Roxas had drawn it with him in mind and then given it to Leon, who had forked over the cash to get it made in time for his birthday. In addition, he had been taken on an uncharacteristically spendy shopping spree—including lunch—by Leon and been forced to pay for nothing.

As birthdays went, this was definitely one of the better ones.

As predicted, there was a positively smug grin on the lieutenant's face when they separated, but Aerith looked almost frantic. "Leon, _why_ did you bring him back so late?"

The brunette looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. We lost track of time."

Cloud raised an eyebrow. He hadn't had a curfew since Zack had taken him in.

"Well, that doesn't matter now—we have to get him bathed and dressed, and then there's makeup—" He couldn't restrain a high-pitched yelped when the flower girl grabbed his arm, viciously dragging him upstairs. His shoulder banged painfully against the bathroom door as he was pushed into the room. "Hurry up and shower—we'll _never_ get done on time at this rate—"

"Done on time for _what_?"

"For your date! What else?" Aerith replied as she bustled upstairs.

"..._excuse me_?"

Not receiving a response, he obediently began to strip, mind teeming with questions. The only person he could think of that would take him anywhere was Leon, and his friend was known for being habitually early. Plus, he didn't think his guardian would freak out so much over a formal outing between the pair—who had already put a severe dent in the older one's wallet for the day. The woman only ever got like this when Zack was being honored for something and they were running late for the ceremony.

"Aerith's having an aneurysm," Leon commented as he stepped fully inside and shut the door.

"We're going on a date?" Cloud yelled over the roar of the water.

"No." Leon made himself comfortable on the marble counter. "I would hurry up, if I were you."

Confusion settled over him like a thick, wet blanket as he rinsed shampoo out of his hair. _I broke up with Reno, so who else would want to take me out today if not Leon?_

"Then what was she talking about?"

But the brunette said nothing.

A record five minutes later he stood in his room, dripping wet and still unaware of where exactly he was going. Even worse, a riffle through his closet revealed that he had absolutely nothing to wear. _What happened to all the clothes I wore for Zack's events? I did buy some stuff today, didn't I?_

"Leon, could you go get—" The ringing of the doorbell interrupted his train of thought.

"He's here!" The petite woman exclaimed as she rushed in, arms loaded with a bundle of fabric that she promptly threw at him. "Zack, get the door!"

"Got it!" From what he could hear, Zack sounded highly amused.

"What are you waiting for? Dry off and put this on. Leon, there's a small pink tube on my dresser, be a dear and fetch it for me—"

A sense of dread was building within him as he picked apart the bundle, suspicious items revealing themselves with every ticking second. Gloves. Necklace. Bracelet. Stockings. Garter belt. Purse.

_Parasol?_

"Aerith." Cloud deadpanned as he picked up the last article of clothing.

"Yes?" She was deliberately not looking at him as she organized tubes and jars of what Cloud now knew to be makeup.

"I am holding a dress."

Her reflection's mouth formed a perfect "o" as Cloud stared at it in his mirror. Still, she wouldn't look at him. "That you are."

Leon was desperately trying not to laugh.

"Why am I holding a dress?"

"Well, honey," the woman began in a saccharine voice, "All your formals were too small to fit you when I checked them yesterday."

"Then why didn't you—"

"_And_," she continued, cutting him off, "Zack's things are far too big for you, don't you think?"

"But I went to the m—"

"So, being that my stuff is perfect size, I took the liberty of lending you something. Isn't it pretty?"

"Aerith!"

Leon was turning red in the face with the effort of restraining himself.

"Firstly, I don't even know who I'm going on this date with yet. Secondly, I was at the mall today. _All day._ If I had nothing to wear, then why didn't you call me and tell me to buy something?"

She looked decidedly guilty now. "It must have slipped my mind."

Cloud didn't believe her for a second.

The sound of voices from downstairs renewed the hurried atmosphere, and displeasure set in as he began the now-familiar process of donning female formal wear. He had to admit that the dress _was_ pretty—it looked vaguely Wutaian and bore a resemblance to the yukata Yuffie had worn to school one day as part of a history project. It was made of silk in a green so dark it looked almost black, with a high collar and long sleeves.

Unlike Tifa's various numbers, this one showed little skin and would at least keep him warm.

Leon helped him into it, and as soon he was dressed Aerith pushed him into a chair. It took effort not to flinch every time she went for his eye with her pencils, but eventually it was over and he was allowed to stand.

Glancing at the clock and biting down what he knew to be a curse, Aerith pulled him into a hug. "Have fun, okay? I know you're mad at me, but at least give the person a chance." She glanced at Leon. "Your earring looks very nice, by the way."

Gingerly, he hugged her back, and she pressed the parasol into his hand.

"Thanks. I'll try."

* * *

Vincent's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he tried his best to focus on the road—and not on the blonde who was sitting quietly in the passenger seat.

The doctor had been surprised to see Cloud come down in yet another dress—as surprised as the blonde had obviously been to discover his date's identity. To his relief, once the initial shock had faded, Cloud seemed perfectly willing to spend the evening with him.

The silence reigning between them was comfortable, and it wasn't until they were halfway to their destination that he chose to break it. "How have you been since we last spoke, Cloud?"

The blonde shifted in his seat. "I've been alright. I don't know if Aerith told you, but I'm not with Reno anymore."

Of course, Vincent knew this, but to hear it from the boy's lips sent a wave of calm through him. "I was made aware of the fact. Are you satisfied with your decision?"

There was a note of quiet pride to Cloud's voice. "I am. It was hard at first, but I think I'm better off."

"Good." Several ways to ask his next question came to Vincent, but he discarded them all and chose a more indirect route. "You look striking tonight."

Cloud sounded miffed as he picked at his sleeve. "No, I don't. Aerith tricked me into wearing this. I didn't know I was going somewhere until I got home this evening and by that time it was too late."

"Ah." So the woman had taken her risk after all.

"Speaking of, where are we going?"

"The Bolshoi." He could almost feel Cloud tense in surprise. "Normally, I would not take someone your age to such a place, because teenagers tend to find theater boring. However, I was told of your interest in visual art. Unless Mrs. Fair was mistaken...?"

"No, she was right. My...parents took me to plays and stuff when I was little. I guess it rubbed off."

"Good." Cloud's parents were obviously a sore spot, so Vincent chose not to comment, instead gracing the boy with a small, rare smile. "They are doing a performance I thought you might like."

* * *

The Bolshoi was located on the posh end of Hollow Bastion, near Rufus' residence and the Shinra tower. The famous image of Apollo and his horses was perched on top of the magnificent structure—looking at it gave Cloud pleasant shivers.

His grip on Vincent's arm tightened as he looked around. All around them society's elite lingered around the theater in small groups, and unconsciously he pulled the parasol lower over his head. Cloud hadn't initially understood why he'd been given the stylized umbrella—until they stepped out of the car.

Main society forgot a scandal after a few months, but the elite's memory never diminished, and Aerith had foreseen someone realizing his identity the second they saw his hair. The parasol matched what he was wearing, shielded the back of his head from view and cast his face into shadow. Coupled with the theater's low lighting, he felt secure enough to enjoy himself.

One elevator ride later and an usher was showing them into a private balcony.

"Vincent, you didn't—"

"I figured you would be more comfortable this way," the older man said quietly.

Touched (he knew that seating up here wasn't cheap) he closed the parasol and gave the man a quiet smile as the lights dimmed.

"...thank you."

* * *

Everything had gone remarkably well thus far, Vincent thought.

_Avenue Q_ was funny, near-pointless humor and had kept the younger one giggling throughout the performance. Dinner had also gone well, taken in a private room of a nice restaurant downtown. Presently, the two were ambling the pathways of Hollow Bastion's large central park. The week had been a surprising reprieve from the winter blizzards and there was no snow to speak of on the ground.

Simply being in the younger's presence was enough to conjure a dreamlike calm. Cloud looked to be enjoying himself—he had long since abandoned the parasol. Under the soft light of the park's intermittent illumination the blonde looked nothing short of heaven's brightest angel: cornflower hair for a halo and strung sapphires cut to the breadth of hairs for eyes.

"Um...is there something on my face?"

The heavenly voice that had serenaded him all afternoon spoke again, accompanied by an uncertain flutter of small hands about a perfect face. The doctor's heart fluttered and it took a good minute to get his larynx to choke out a response. "No, Cloud. You're perfect."

He had been staring. _Damn._

The blonde's visage carried an odd look, and his tone was bemused when he spoke. "Vincent, you saved my life. I was grateful, and I still am—which is why I gave you Jammy for Christmas."

Vincent opened his mouth to speak.

"Let me finish." The blonde held up a hand, eyes shining with a difficult question. "Why would you spend hundreds of gil on a night for someone you barely know, even if it is my birthday?"

They were near one of the park's numerous benches, and without preamble he guided the blonde in that direction. At long last, the moment had arrived, and he carefully began the search for words. But as the moment drew on and the apprehension in Cloud's eyes grew, he found his extensive vocabulary to be lacking in the face of his feelings.

_Just tell the truth, Vincent, _Lu said.

"Cloud, I...I don't want to frighten you, but I respect you too much to tell a lie." His fingers itched for the familiar grip of a wineglass. "When I saved you all I felt towards you was concern. After Christmas, that began to change."

Even as he continued speaking, he could see the revelation forming within those endless oceans.

"I spent many a night arguing with myself, but despite my reservations the end result remained the same. I seem to have...developed romantic feelings for you, Cloud."

Vincent couldn't bear to look the angel in the face, opting instead to stare at the pebbled ground. Shame crept through his being until his countenance seemed weighted down by it. Could he not control himself?

He was about to suggest that Cloud forget the whole thing until he felt a gentle hand on his arm.

"Vincent. Look at me."

Submitting to Cloud's will felt too natural for him to disobey. To the doctor's surprise, however, he found nothing but quiet understanding when blue met red.

"Vincent, this is...sudden. Really sudden. I...I just left a relationship. I'm not completely over it yet."

"I understand—" Pain seeped from the jagged edges of his heart. He tried his best to hide it, not wanting to guilt the boy into something he obviously didn't want.

"No, you don't."

A small hand rose from its prone position: he held his breath for the impending slap but was surprised when none came. Instead, an eidolon's touch fell upon his milk-white skin. He breathed deeply, in and out. Cloud's blue eyes glittered in the darkness.

"I do accept your feelings, Vincent. I just...I'm not ready to start seeing someone else. When I get better, we'll see what happens. But for now, I'd like to just stay friends." The blonde's hand fell away from Vincent's face and he was graced with a small smile. "I had fun tonight. Thank you."

The blonde hadn't run away screaming, which was more than he could have hoped for. And...in the future, perhaps he had a chance.

It was more than he ever could have hoped for.

Vincent smiled back.

* * *

Cloud looked quietly happy, Zack and Aerith observed as the blonde shed his jacket and traversed upstairs.

"Looks like he had a good time."

"That was the point, Zack."

"What was the point of the dress? I saw the clothes you hid in our closet."

"...I just wanted to see how it would look, is all."

"...I married a demon."

"And don't you forget it."


	26. XXIV: Time of Dying

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts **

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Chapter Warnings: Implied Murder**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene, Leon x Riku**

**A/N: I don't know if any of you have noticed the date today. **

**A year ago, I curled up in bed with my laptop, frantically typing up the first chapter to a story that had no direction. And now here I am exactly a year later—26 chapters to my name, over a hundred and fifty reviews and over twenty thousand hits, with outlines and aching fingers. I honestly never thought that I would reach this point, but I have, and there are several people that I'd like to thank.**

**The first of those people is, of course, my wonderful beta Oblea. I could not have gotten this far without her putting up with my bitching and whining and nonsensical first drafts. Just wanted to say publicly that you're awesome and I love you and if you were a dude I would have jumped you by now. **

**-leer- I kid, I kid.**

**Seriously, though, thanks. –wave-**

**Secondly, I'd like to thank my reviewers, whose words have been a major encouragement. Special thanks to the ones that came back after I decided to end my hiatus. Your dedication was extremely appreciated.**

**Thirdly, I'd like to thank my silent readers – the ones who read but don't review. Just letting you know that I love you as well, though I'd love it if you spoke up every once in a while...**

**Anyway, let's all look forward to another year together, shall we?**

**Now, about this chapter. As you've probably guessed from the warning, someone dies. No one particularly important to this story, but someone who I liked in FF7 and who got very little attention. All throughout it, I was all NO -blank- but it had to be done for one of the plotlines to advance. **

**I'm just sorry that the anniversary chapter is so emo – so before the day is over (or on the 31st or 1st if I don't finish in time) I will be submitting a bonus fic, completely unrelated to Watercolor, but as a gift for you all. So watch out for it. I hope you will like it.**

**Enjoy. **

* * *

**XXIV: Time of Dying**

* * *

**Saturday—January 24th**

* * *

His eyes were sharp and seemed greener in the dim light of the parlor—emerald chips of ice that surveyed his surroundings with a superior air. He was not a diminutive man by any standards, ranging from physical aptitude to beauty to prowess in the coital arena. He was a man of stature, a man who commanded immediate submission when he walked into a room. For once, however, the tangible aura of power that seemed to follow him like a faithful companion held less animosity and more satisfaction: akin to the proverbial cat and its foolish canary.

To his current objects of focus, one would assume that this would be a welcome sign. Said objects of focus begged pitifully to differ. They were mere footstools in the presence of this man—certainly not lacking in skill, but _breakable_—and this fact had been etched into every jagged facet of their not-so-long lives. But all tools will mold to their master's grip with time: these tools had been in use for long enough to read the signs. So indeed, they did not agree.

The man has said nothing about his plans, but piece by piece they had formed a vague picture—forgetting for precious moments that ignorance is bliss. And what they saw was something that zapped all warmth from their marrow and replaced it with a sickening dread.

A dread that was to be fulfilled.

Tonight was the night.

If it had been a dignified thing to jump upon the nearest platform and commence a freakishly wild happy dance, Sephiroth would have certainly done so. Unfortunately, it was not, and he had to settle for a noticeable spring in his step. Every step of his soon-to-unfold plan had been carefully mapped out with months of espionage and careful arranging, and all that was left to do was to actually commit the act.

His gaze roved over his tools.

They knelt quietly at his feet, hands clasped behind their backs and heads bowed in deferential reverence. Not a wrinkle was folded wrong or a hair out of place—their posture was flawless, their eyes were empty, their faces blank.

Perfection. Near perfection.

He didn't even need to speak. With a hand motion they had vanished as if on air—with the grace of a ballroom dancer, but in a waltz much less innocent. And much less smooth, for the reaper was reluctant to set aside his scythe before offering his hand for a whirl.

Three souls, drifting through an imagined afternoon, spun a spinning wheel before them. Scissors flashed in the sunlight as a thread was cut.

* * *

As they knelt in the hydrangeas surrounding their target's private residence, Loz took the opportunity to observe his siblings.

Kadaj had his too-familiar killing face on, one that spoke of imminent danger and forced blankness of mind. The teen had done some healing since December's incident, and was slowly moving forward in the area of closeness—but it would be a long while before anything remotely carnal would happen.

Loz found that the thought didn't bother him as much as it would countless others. He had survived without sex for years. A while more without the experience would indeed not prove fatal.

Turning his head, he took in the sight of his older brother—malachite locks blowing in the wind and mouth twisted into a calculating scowl. While Loz was certainly not the brains of their operation and could be admittedly dense, he was used to the way that Yazoo behaved. So much so that he could tell that something major was on his sibling's mind. It was obvious to him, however, that the man was not willing to share and so the middle child did not push the issue.

He knew in his heart that his brother-turned-lover would never do anything to would hurt them. And so the only worry he harbored was for Yazoo's safety. Right now, Kadaj needed him more.

Yazoo was not unaware of his brother's staring, but chose not to comment as he stared into the open kitchen window. Indeed, his mind was working overtime as he tried to determine the moment of striking. The man's assignment had been no accident: Sephiroth had known exactly what he was doing when he sent their target off. The grueling experience would have no doubt been hell on both the man's physical and mental psyche.

Tonight was indeed the night.

* * *

To some, the white shirt was a simple convenience. Impossible to clash with any other color, plain, easily blended, and passable for any occasion. For others, the white shirt was a symbol of conformity—of compliance to the masses, of a purity that begged to be stripped away.

For Tseng, however, the white shirt was the ultimate symbol of pride.

He looked after his precious collection like newborn babies, ever vigilant for tears or fraying. It was also of the utmost importance that the coloration stayed as snow-white as possible: the first hint of graying or yellowing and the garment was immediately discarded. He kept them pressed, a crisp ashen army hanging from wooden hangers that he ironed each week for good measure. Yes, Tseng was quite careful with his shirts.

The only disregard he showed them was when he was taking them off.

Crème material flumped to the floor as its owner stumbled about, all professional dignity gone in the face of sheer sleepiness. His latest mission had been a simple surveillance one, but had been taken in the deserts of fucking North Corel—and after just one day he'd had sand in very uncomfortable places. Sure, he'd been partnered with Cissnei who was agreeable and knew when to leave him alone, but it would take weeks for the grainy, gritty feeling to leave him even though he'd bathed thoroughly and sent his equipment to be cleaned.

Sighing, he glanced at the clock. It was after midnight, but the gnawing feeling in his stomach simply refused to be ignored. There was bound to be something simple to prepare in his cupboard, tucked away somewhere...

The stove made a clicking sound before the gas ignited, a ring of fire licking at the dull metal that was placed above its surface. Outside the brick walls, the trio exchanged glances: the boiling water fogged the glass and obscured the view of the happenings inside. Cursing internally, Yazoo turned to his companions, Kadaj's emerald eyes holding a hint of alarm.

"Can you work through that?"

"I'll be fine. Spread out. Execute step 2. And be quick about it."

Yazoo quivered in the chilly night air, the body heat he'd been enjoying from his companions disappearing in their absence. Internally, he was thanking Sephiroth's foresight, for once—they had broken in earlier that day on his orders and pushed all of the target's windows myopically open. Which would, of course, make stealth much easier.

On the other side of the house, a crowbar pushed up the living room window and poked its metal head through, applying just enough force to shatter a nearby vase. A silver head darted away, ashen rod in hand and heart racing.

A room away, Tseng's head snapped up.

The echo of shattered porcelain sliced through his hearing like a scalpel, and he winced as he raced to the source of the sound. There, to his annoyance, he found his birthday gift from Elena in shards upon the floor. Looking around cautiously, he could see no cause for it tipping over. Perhaps the vibrations of his footsteps had traveled up and overbalanced it?

Shrugging, he opened his coat closet to retrieve a broom and paddle, bending down to scoop up the mess.

The window was closed.

Though the medic was growing increasingly on edge, the warmth of their youngest was beside him once more and Tseng's pot bubbled merrily on the stove below the window. The water vapor's fogging had made visibility much harder, and so Kadaj was sent back to keep watch on the still-sweeping Turk. His brothers' breaths were held meanwhile, the smoky clouds that formed from their exhales absent in cautious suspense.

Once more, metal pushed on glass and the window lifted with ease, exposing the cooking noodles to the chilly nighttime air.

Loz's hand couldn't help but shake as he uncorked a bottle. A muscular arm extended over the windowsill and above the unfinished meal, quivering as the contents of the vial were poured without mercy.

A little ways away, wood creaked under the weight of its owner. Loz's cell phone buzzed. They were out of time.

Tseng reentered the kitchen, full paddle held steadily despite his fatigue. His foot pressed the button for the garbage lid to spring open, and the Wutaian couldn't suppress a sigh as he tipped the remains of the vase inside. _I hope Elena doesn't notice this when she comes over tomorrow to get the report.._..

By now, the surface of the water was a frothy white, and he cut the stove with adept fingers and a growling stomach.

The window was closed.

The familiar scent of chicken broth filled his nostrils as he poured the pot's contents into a bowl, forsaking chopsticks for a simpler fork and sitting at the kitchen table. A tired smile curled on his lips as he raised the fork to his lips, steam caressing his face like a lover.

* * *

Three figures watched the fall of a leader, midnight hair spilling across a cherry surface like raven down. And the coroner recorded the cause of death as suicide.

* * *

Laughter rang through the house, loudly and coldly enough to chill despite the heavy blankets. He held Kadaj in the darkness, the boy's body shaking and his face buried in the nape of the medic's neck.

The spastic movement of the duvet on his other side alerted him to Loz's continued activity.

The middle child hadn't stopped fidgeting his hands since they'd gotten back—even in Sephiroth's presence. His method hadn't changed, either: left on top of right, fingers scratching at his knuckles before going down to rub at his wrist. They were lucky that their Nii-san was in too much of a good mood to care about a minor infraction, and they had been sent to their room without incident. Still, the habit was no less disturbing to Yazoo and he felt fear curling in the pit of his stomach.

They knew they wouldn't be discovered. But their method...

It would have been more honorable if they had let the man fight, allowing him a chance at defending himself before crimson ribbon wrapped around a blade's quivering tip. But instead, they had taken the simplest human activity and perverted it to something unnatural.

The powder had been orange. It blended almost perfectly with the color of the broth. Had Tseng been more alert, he certainly would have noticed.

Sephiroth had left no margin for error.

And to add insult to injury, the papers would claim that he had intended his midnight snack as a last meal. That a steady, desperate hand had poured arsenic sulfide over noodles like some kind of perverted confection. And that his friends and his job hadn't been worth a damn thing.

Kadaj let out a desperate sob. Loz kept right on rubbing. And Yazoo made plans to visit a blonde-haired boy.


	27. XXV: Bodies

**Watercolor**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts **

**Chapter Rating: PG**

**Chapter Warnings: None**

**Pairings: Roxas x Sora, Xemnas x Saïx, Kadaj x Yazoo x Loz, Marluxia x Larxene, Leon x Riku**

**A/N: Okay. All of you can feel free to shoot me. Go ahead - it's open season. This chapter is utter fail, firstly - it surpasses filler. It's _canon fodder_. And I had to force myself to write it. Fortunately, the next chapter is much more interesting - there's a Kairi update. (Bet you all think I forgot about her, didn't you?) Sora's father puts in a violent appearance, Larxene does some snooping, and there's some LeonCloud romance-like stuff for all of you LC fans. (Like myself. I love them. _So _much.)**

**Second order of business - I know I promised you guys a fic. It's coming, I promise, I'm writing it now, and it's shaping up to be a very long oneshot. And yes, it is LeonCloud. So watch out for it, okay?**

**Thirdly, there was something I wanted to address. I know that this story is drifting in the FFVII direction (towards Cloud, mostly) and straying from its main RoxasSora plot. Once more, I am going to say that the drifting is intentional. All of this stuff is going to matter when it comes down to the actiony parts and what happens to the twins in the end. So bear with me, okay? And ooh, Valentine's Day will come in a few chapters. Wonder what happens then...**

**Try to enjoy this, for my sake. And please review. It cheers me up and lets my fingers fly.**

* * *

**XXV: Bodies**

* * *

**Wednesday—January 28th**

* * *

The parlor was dimly lit, flickering chandeliers casting eerie shadows on the walls that added to the weighty atmosphere. A glance outside the window revealed a monsoon in progress, sheets of rain falling so thickly that the objects behind them were mere silhouettes. Inside the walls, however, there was no appreciation for a rainy day, no desire to curl up between blankets with tea and a good book. The people were a black parade instead, memories falling into soggy tissue and irises awash with red.

Within the sanctum of the large building, however, a large casket made a macabre centerpiece. As coffins went, it was nothing elaborate, simply a black metal box with white lining. However, the body inside it was the reason all were assembled, and from it wafted the heavy scent of the orient—a mere condolence to cover the perfume of death.

Amid the rows of mourners and Shinra employees sat a man, surrounded by a group of four with ramrod posture. His expression was its usual blank, but internally he was smirking at the elaborate proceedings and the masked devastation that radiated from the President a few seats away. Devastation was close by as well, manifested with three boys dressed in expensive suits with neatly combed hair.

Yazoo's expression was calm and his desolation buried deep, but he had practically raised the boy and knew where to look for it. Loz was also composed but the perpetual twitching of his broad palms spoke wonders to Sephiroth. Poor Kadaj didn't even bother to hide it—his eyes brimmed with tears and he was leaning, ever-so-slightly, on Loz.

The General gave an inward smirk. They were all too amusing.

His fourth companion was one a little less breakable, a man of honor and underestimated strength. Zack Fair was one of the few people Sephiroth respected, though the man was a little too bubbly for his own good—and clueless as to certain undercurrents at Shinra. With plans moving at the pace they were, he wasn't quite sure where the lieutenant would fall in the final scheme of things.

That was a matter for another day, however.

He came out of his thoughts in time to note the standing people and catch the announcement of the upcoming interment, which he had no intention of attending. Rising gracefully, he walked down the crowded aisle. Zack's heavy footsteps sounded beside him, and violet eyes were filled with sadness as the man spoke. "Man, I can't believe it's over. Always thought of Tseng as infallible, you know? Wonder why he kicked the bucket."

"Perhaps he was unhappy," Sephiroth replied smoothly.

"Maybe. Don't really see a reason, though. Maybe he had a girl somewhere and it went wrong, or something." Zack's raven spikes shifted as he shook his head. "Any clue who's going to replace him?"

"I have not been informed of any change in staffing as of yet."

"It'll take some time, then." The lieutenant sighed. "Going to be a hassle finding someone as good as Tseng was though."

For once, Sephiroth had trouble hiding his smile.

* * *

Reno stood in the front, hands in his pockets as the sanctuary slowly emptied. The coffin had been opened for the few stragglers who wanted a last look, but the pews were bare—save one. A blonde sat in the front row, dressed in an outfit identical to Tseng's, head bent and tissue obscuring her face. Elena Tenshi. Eighteen years old. A Turk in training. And his fiancée.

Who he didn't know at all.

Well, sure, he knew her history. Her mother had also been a Turk and had raised Elena for the job, home-schooling her and training her in combat and weaponry from a young age. Elena's father had chosen to stay out of Shinra, and was a college professor who happened to be on excellent terms with Reno's parents. In the higher echelons of society, adults being friends wasn't that far a jump from betrothal arrangements. Arrangements that were optional for the sake of fairness, but present and encouraged.

He eliminated the freedom of choice with Cloud's stunt.

Elena wanted to make her father—now a single parent—happy.

While it was true that the redhead didn't know the girl very well, she was going to be his wife the second she turned 21. And there was nothing he could do to change it. While it was true that he didn't have feelings for her at all, she seemed like an agreeable person and a hard worker. Not someone who deserved the crap he had put Cloud through.

_If you're going to do something, now would be the time to do it, dumbass._

So, Reno had made a New Year's resolution. Yes, it was late. Yes, it was difficult, because he was still hurting and every time he closed his eyes he saw blue and pain. But it was one he was determined to follow through with. He had ruined one life already. There was no need to screw up another.

His dress shoes made whispering sounds on the carpeting. The bench creaked as he sat down next to her. The stragglers had gone. Tseng was immobile. She offered a watery smile.

No, he wasn't in love with her. But he was going to try.

* * *

His mind was made up.

If one was to glance skyward that afternoon, they would have been blessed with the sight of a figure—hair streaming out like a reflective banner, moving like a skipping child or some fallen angel who had sneaked to the planet for frolic. And indeed, the figure had a seraphic air that made one wonder if it was truly not of this world. Said silhouette's intentions, however, were anything but godly as he made his way from rooftop to rooftop.

Finally, he reached his destination. Climbing onto the branches of a nearby tree was a simple enough task, and it wasn't long before he alighted gently on the ground before a comfortable-looking house. Breaking in was relatively easy, and a skill he had utilized too many times to be apprehensive about. He'd done enough research to know that no one would be home—but that someone was fast approaching. Exactly what he wanted.

Sitting on the comfy-looking couch, he settled in to wait until the roar of a motorcycle was heard in the distance. Louder and louder came the noise until it dimmed to only the humming of an engine and then stuttered to a complete stop. The doorknob jiggled and the key fit to the lock with a muted clicking sound.

Yazoo smiled.

The teenager looked windblown as he stepped over the threshold, cheeks rosy from the cold and lips an attractive claret. Yazoo had seen him several times on his numerous surveillance trips, but never had he taken the time to appreciate the boy's beauty. A beauty that was somehow preserved in anger—it was in the midst of the boy removing his jacket that Yazoo was noticed.

He was expecting to be attacked the moment the blonde registered the strange presence, but was greeted to only a defensive stance and narrowed blue eyes. So Strife wasn't of the shoot-first-ask-later variety. Lovely.

"Who the _hell _are you?"

He took a deep breath, silver head bent and metallic strands sweeping low to cover his face. When he looked up, Cloud was visibly shocked. Those large emerald eyes were sparkling with tears—and to Yazoo, they were much easier to summon then they should have been. In that moment, he felt all of his despair, hurt, pain, fear and _love_ rush to crash over him like a bloodthirsty tsunami.

"I need you, Strife."

_Help me._


End file.
